


Lutz At First Sight

by Judyku



Category: Firefly
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-11-16 15:07:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11255442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Judyku/pseuds/Judyku
Summary: Big Damn Heroes on ice!





	1. Cheated

**Author's Note:**

> Cheated is when a jump isn't fully rotated in mid-air, and either the first rotation starts on the ice or the last rotation is finished on the ice.

_EXTRA! EXTRA!_

_Word on the street is Inara SERRA, two time champion and two time Olympic silver medalist, has cut ties with partner of ten years, Malcolm REYNOLDS._

_Serra was spotted earlier this week being escorted by Olympic gold medalist and two time champion, Atherton WING._  
_  
_ The relationship of Reynolds and Serra has long been known for its volatility both on and off the ice, sparking many a debate between fans and peers alike. Their off-ice drama would come into play on-ice, said close friends of the pair, and their performances suffered for it. The inconsistency and over portrayals in their artistic representation has been known to cost them dearly in competitions such as the Championships and Four Worlders.

_A source revealed exclusively to us that Serra is seeking to relaunch her career in a bid for gold, while Reynolds is eyeing retirement._

_We here at Entertainment Weekly hope not! Office staff here at EW have long loved Malcolm Reynolds, our beloved Border World Boy who rose from the shadows to impress and wow at the tender age of sixteen._  
  
_Let’s take a look at some of their most exciting and fiery programs over the last ten years..._

Xxxx

_Prologue..._

Static fuzzed up his large Cortex screen for a split second before it finally responded to sleep mode, and he stared at it for a time, far preferring that to the woman behind him.

“You weren’t supposed to find out like this. I _swear_.”

Mal turned slow, emotionless, and looked at Inara, seeing her well-manicured hands clasped together in front of her heart and face immaculate in make up. Right from the heavy false eyelashes down to the deep, almost cherrywood red lipstick that made her lips look fuller, more defined.

There were a pleading to her that he knew real well. Where she would widen her eyes just so seconds before she lowered her head. A perfect portrayal of a guilty child whose remorse were so mighty, there could be tears.  
  
_How like her to play the gorram victim, here._  
  
"Mal..."  
  
Betrayal was what he felt and it cut deep, sharp, and left him raw and bleeding inside as he stared at her, unable to comprehend quite what she was saying. He moved before she could lay her hand on his arm and ran his own through his hair, eyes on the ceiling and heart in his gorram boots.  
  
He levelled her with an empty stare, his mind connecting dots that shouldn't exist. The perfect make up, professional manicure, expensive silk dress and sandals. She clear weren’t hooking up with no fellow who ain’t got much in the way of cashy money, so that left the one single man in skating who had more money than sense.

“Atherton?” He asked, casual as could be given the circumstances.  
  
A hardness sparked in her eyes and those dark red lips thinned. "I won't lie to you, Mal."  
  
Oh, but she had been lying, hadn't she? The only question he had was for how long. A month? Two, three? A year maybe? He didn't bother to ask since it wouldn't make a ounce of difference. Wouldn't change things.  
  
His partner, on the ice and sometimes off it, were walking out on him over a disgusting piece of _gou-shi_ like Wing, and for what? Because he was of the high society to which she aspired. He'd known that though, hadn't he? All these years, he'd seen this side of her and he'd let it slide, taking it as part of who she was, but deep down he'd known. Known that one day, some well moneyed dandy would dazzle her with a bit of flash and off she'd go without so much as a nevermind.  
  
"... Call me pretentious, but there is some appeal in that..."  
  
Yet even knowing it as he did, he'd hoped that they could at least see in their third Olympics. Give it their all. Why, then, if he'd known so well, did it feel like such a betrayal? Weren't like he'd been ignorant of her less than stellar traits.  
  
"... I could belong..."  
  
_I trusted her._  
  
"... And with the Olympics in..."  
  
Now they were getting to the truth of things.  
  
She thought good ol' Ath was her golden ticket, didn't she? Thought he was faulty one, the reason why they hadn't won gold. She'd made no secret of that, either. He was too this, too that, too the other. Didn't show enough emotion, didn't smile enough for the judges, too technical, and through it all, not once had she ever criticised herself. Sometimes it made skating with her akin to walking on eggshells, but to tell tale of that would make for an injured Inara Serra, wouldn't it? Ever the victim that she was.  
  
"... I need that gold, Mal. Surely you of all people can understa..." Words came out on hurried desperation, but he cut her off, unable and unwilling to hear more of it.  
  
Pain shot through Mal's jaw as he looked away from her. "Get out, Inara. Just get out."  
  
"Mal, please. Let's not end it like this. We can still..."  
  
He wanted to laugh right in her face.

_They could still what? Still be friends? Still rut when she feel the need as to do that? If I ain't her partner, I sure as hell ain't gonna be her lil fuck toy for when good ol Ath can't get it up._  
  
That's exactly what he'd been, weren't it? Inara Serra's fuck toy. The Border World Boy, the press had called him once upon a time, and that's what he’d been to her, weren’t it? Good enough when there weren’t none else to be had, and now she thought gold were more or less already in the palm of her hand.  
  
"I can see we're not going to get anywhere here."  
  
Mal shook his head and sucked a breath in through his teeth. "Get out." That was all he had to say to her. No more and no less. Well, except three more words. “Don’t come back.”

He refused to watch her leave, waited a good ten minutes before he reacted and picked up the nearest object he could find and slung it at the nearest wall.

The vase shattered on impact, pieces of painted ceramic littered the floor, but it wasn't enough to satisfy and something else filled his hand. Then something else and something else, only stopping when he ran out of fuel and found himself sitting on the floor in the middle of what were the broken remains of a glass figurine.  
  
_Gou-shi._  
  
That glass figurine had been a gift from his ma and sent all the way from Shadow. All the way from home. Now it was the perfect replica of what his gorram life had turned into.  
  
His head hit the back of the wall and Mal looked dazedly up at the ceiling. He maybe had two Olympic competitions left before age caught up with him, and the qualifiers for one right around the corner. Inara had been putting all her little ducks in a row with the full knowledge she was leaving him pretty much up the gorram creek.  
  
Mal wondered how many knew about her thing with good ol Ath. Probably not many since neither Serra nor Wing were of the mind to hold up well to a scandal. Not that Wing were a stranger to scandal, of course, but it was mighty clear that hadn't been an issue for her.

He'd have to call Nandi and Petaline, that's if they didn't know already of course, and if Petaline knew, then so did his sponsor, Rance. Rance would be furious at him, at her, at the gorram 'verse, but what could be done?  
  
Inara saw greener pastures elsewhere and that was that.

_Jayne._  
  
Jayne was always good for a booze up. He'd give the fellow a wave, say the magic words, then go out and drink until he couldn't see straight.

As for Serra?  
  
Well, good rutting luck to her. Man like Ath? She were gonna need every bit of that she could scrape together.


	2. The Flutz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flutz of a meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Flutz is the name given to an incorrectly executed Lutz jump, where take-off is mistakenly changed from the outside edge to the inside, making it a Flip jump instead of a Lutz. Thus the Flutz!

Chapter 1… 

Xxxx...

"She ain't no hippie, Mal."

Mal turned away from Nandi and made a dramatic show of ignoring his coach with a helpless shrug of his shoulders.  
  
Some Upper Crust City Girl with fancy learnings spoke to the lie his coach told. Some lil nineteen year old prima ballerina looking to make her debut was not what he called a future partner, and he weren't gonna be another stepping stone for some social butterfly with delusions of golden stardom in her big eyes.

 _Had plenty Society Girls to last me a ruttin' lifetime. Didn't she learn none from Serra? Girl'll use me far as she can, then ship off to someone she sees to be better n' me._  
  
He weren't never gonna be a gold medalist. He was quite sure of that. He weren't just competing with other, more talented couples, but the younger generation that were coming out with all these new and creative combinations. They had the energy he lost a long time ago, they had a love he didn't feel no more, and to the own the truth, he should probably just give it up and retire to a life of crime.  
  
It sure as hell beat facing a future full of skating with some rich girl who sold friendship bracelets made of yarn on C-Bay in a solidarity she didn't have with the poor folk out on the rim.  
  
"She's travelled from Osiris at short notice." Petaline came next.  
  
Mal feigned a yawn as he stretched his legs out, ice boots crossed, and pretended to fall asleep as he built an image of this lil Core girl from Osiris.  
  
Probably had the trendy black hair with the thick bangs bluntly cut just above her eyebrows and that hideous, lopsided bob that skimmed one shoulder and the opposing ear.  He shuddered at the thought of that hair trend. Why anyone would pay to look like a five year old cut their hair was beyond him, but they did, and some of them paid buckets for it, too.

Girl probably had plastic tits to complete the look.  
  
He paused.  
  
There was a part of him that understood the need for athletic women to get such things, given how muscle tended to make the titties smaller. Still weren’t a need to go so as their chests weren't no different to beach balls.  
  
He shuddered again.  
  
Girl was gonna have triple D titties, weren't she? Thick, lopsided black bob, painted eyebrows, and the deceptive figure of a ballerina. She were gonna be a trendy version of Inara, weren’t she? He were gonna come face to face with a bona fide social cam girl who had her own C-Tube channel on how to weave bright cotton into a pair of rutting socks or somesuch.

"... You ain't gonna be none but courteous." Nandi's warning came out on a voice Mal understand loud and clear. "You got lucky in gettin' to see her."

He rolled his eyes, but gave his coach the most charming smile he had to offer. She weren't impressed and continued to stare at him, her dark eyes full of the natural wildness only to be found in a woman who had lived a rollercoaster of a life and went back for more.

Ten years she'd been his coach and he didn't know the half of it. Supposed he never would, he figured, and left it at that.  
  
"Where is she?" Petaline said impatiently, and Mal noticed for the first time the excitement in his choreographer's bright eyes. Why, her head were turning this way and that, neck almost snapping as she craned the damned thing ten ways from Sunday.

“I’ll tell you where she is.” He finally snapped, anger bubbling out of his mouth by way of bitterness and spite. “I’ll tell you where she is. Out with one of her ruttin’ rich dandy boys is where she is. Wonder which of ‘em drew the short straw as to get an eyeful of her plastic tits dryin’ up in this heat.”

Mal didn’t feel a single bit better after that, and a soft, very feminine, very honeyed voice came from behind him.

“Plastic tits?”

Froze when he saw the young female fan tugging her jacket just that bit tighter across her chest.

_Wo cao._

Xxxx

He recovered, or tried to recover, and plastered a smile on his face. One that was as shiny, as friendly open as could be possible, though it didn’t seem to do much good in truth. The fakeness drop into something that felt more genuine, more real, but it still fell mighty flat.

She were, what, sixteen? Seventeen at most, mid-brown hair wrapped into a severe bun at the back of her head. Her skin were a smooth, lightly sun kissed porcelain if he had to say, and a button nose that were speckled with a bunch of freckles that were a match for her pair of big ol’ amber eyes.

_I’ve seen her ‘afore, but where?_

There were a whole load of shock on her pretty face, chasing away his familiar feeling, and leaving him cursing his gorram luck.  
  
_Fangirl or an amateur skater with delusions of grandeur_ , he thought. _Don't much care which. I ain't the mood as to deal with either. Still as have to play nice._  
  
Mal fully faced the pretty young thing. No real point now in trying to play Mr. Nice Fellow, and so he aimed to be as less miserable as he could given the way of things for him. "This arena ain't open the public today. I’ve a C-site if you want a scrawl or two."  
  
Them rich amber eyes blinking owlishly up at him, one hand still pressed to her chest. A set of glossy plump lips opened to speak, but he cut her off.  
  
"I ain't tryin' to be a mean old man, but I got some business to get done here. So how's 'bout you git on home an' wave the fine folk behind me. See 'bout some merch. How ‘bout a pen? We’ll even get your name etched on to show all your school friends. Would you like that?"

There.

Mal smiled, pleased with his shiny show of face saving.  
  
“I’ll certainly speak to your people. Right now, if you wouldn’t mind?”

What?

_Ohhhh. She ain’t here for me. Girl’s a dancer or suchlike. Wants to see Petaline. S’good to have her see my face ain’t the only one to be found in this here team of ours._

That softened his smile a tad. Made him feel a little better, less sour even, and he gestured with his chin. “Git your rear back on there. Pick her brain while you can. She ain’t got long ‘afore the critter comes.”

 _May as well get my practice in if that rich girl ain’t a show up._  
  
Without interrupting the quiet chit-chat going on just behind him, Mal slipped off his blade guards and knocked the boards twice with his toepick for luck. Never were a more satisfying sound than that of newly sharpened blades cutting down into newly resurfaced ice, and he rolled his shoulders to work a bit of heat into the loose muscles.

Was about to push off when he took another look at the girl, frowned at the sight. Nandi and Petaline were almost frozen, one with both hands on her stomach and the other just stood there, seemingly staring into space.

“Everythin’ okay?” He asked, careful. After all, it weren’t the girl’s fault the rich one were an unreliable flake.

Amber didn’t so much as look in his direction. “Yes, thank you.”

Mal took in her profile for a moment, his brainpan mapping the soft shape of cheeks that swept down into a slightly rounded jaw and a plump mouth. Recognition niggled, but he just couldn’t place that face for love nor money. Probably hit him when he weren’t thinking so hard on it.

“Well, it don’t look like my business saw fit to show.” He said and pushed his lips up into what he hoped was a decent smile. “I’m assumin’ you got some blades in that bag o’ yours. Want to go for a spin? Could be I teach you a few tricks.”

Girl slowly turned to face him, only it weren’t her that silenced him, but Nandi herself.

He’d never seen such a show of nothing on her face in all the years he’d known her, and he had a feeling he were going to be in some sort of trouble for speaking out of turn in front of a fan. And he had, he realised with a heavy internal cringe.

_Plastic tits. I said that. I actual and whole said that in front of a sixteen year old young woman. Damned, but I am a chwen joo._

Mal swallowed thickly, his mouth as dry and dusty as the Persephone roads in early summer. The implications of his words repeating over and over in his head. Weren’t no way to apologise for that without making it worse. “An’ if you want to, o’ course, could be you even try out.”

Creamy eyelids blinked long and slow before amber eyes studied him intently. “I’ll have to put my boots on.”

Something loosened in his chest at her agreement. He nodded. “Plenty of time to be had. I ain’t got much else to do as of now.”

Girl nodded, distracted with pulling out a set of custom Siedell Infinity blades attached to Siedell Aquatica boots that threw him for a second. Even came with razor cut straight edge rakes for precise turning, the toepicks weren’t shabby, either, and a tiny sliver of hope rattled his ears.

Girl knew her blades, but more importantly, she kept them real good and that meant she weren’t playing around like most figure skaters who crossed his path. This lil one clear as day had her heart set on a future in the sport, and by the look of her, she could well be a cut above the average amateur that’s for sure.  
  
Still, Mal reeled with a bit of shock seeing his own blades on a pair of boots, though he figured it shouldn’t be such a surprise. After all, there'd been a huge increase in young 'uns taking up the sport when he first cut the scene. He liked to think he had something to do with all that inspiration.  
  
Girl laced her boots right, pulling down and out so as no resistance were met when it came to tying them. He watched her flip the laces over each hook, then arched his brow when she brought them down to the flex notch.

She noticed his attention to detail. “It allows greater flexion. Range of motion without allowing the strength and integrity of my boot to interfere. Locks the heel firmly at the back.”

“I do the same.” Girl weren’t no amateur, he realised, and that sliver of hope turned into a sliver of deep unease.

_Maybe she’s an ice dancer? But her blades ain’t for that. For figure skatin’._

One size eight foot clanked off the floor and blade guards removed before she stood. “Ready.”

Mal licked his lips and swept his hand towards the ice. Didn’t ask if she were removing her jacket. “Start simple. Few spins, maybe a jump or two. See how it goes.”

Girl were mighty confident on the ice, he noted as he followed her and watched her work out a few kinks with a quick stretch against the boards. It were a solid show of her flexibility, given how her body were almost on a ninety degree angle.

Her balance was perfect as she performed a single rotation scratch spin, wiggling both blades alternatively down into the ice until she were satisfied. “Couple of laps to warm.”

Mal nodded and pushed off next to her, his gaze occasionally slipping sideways to try get a better look in an effort to jog his memory. “Why the Aquatica blade?”

“More aggressive. Precise.”

He nodded with understanding. Tried to broach conversation again. “Been skatin’ a fair while it seems.”

Slender shoulders shrugged. “Since I was three.”

Taciturn little thing, weren’t she?

He followed her lead, head shaking, as she went through some fancy footwork that turned into a beautiful Bauer with a smooth transition into a layback. Well toned arms were graceful in their reach as she righted, her left leg rose slow, going higher and higher into an I-spin that made his nuts curl up and cower.

_That’s some split._

Girl spread those arms way out to gain balance and pushed off with ease, her legs long and far more muscular than they appeared to be. He watched, stock still, as a triple to double flip jump were executed and landed clean. Her free leg coming down once more to wrap over her right knee and off she went into another perfect spin that were more ballet than skater.

_Ballet. S’where I know her from. She’s that girl, ain’t she? The one with all them fancy learnin’s. The one from Osiris when I took Inara to see Cinderella. Girl’s Cinder-ruttin’-ella. What’s her name? What’s her gorram name?_

“What…” Mal already knew the answer, but asked anyway. “What’s your name?”

“Which would you prefer? Wrinkle Tits or Busty LaRue?”

Xxxx

Being cooped up on a Mark I Hornet class passenger craft, River was in no mood to care about the oh so pathetically apologetic cretin watching her skate. Four days it took to get here from Osiris, and on top of that, she'd turned down several lucrative opportunities in order to make this meeting happen.

Her time was her money, and so she had basically paid for a long haul flight on a short notice ticket, only to be treated with open condescension and insult.

Oh well. Not a real big loss, she thought as she worked through several laps that continued until she felt her muscles fully loosen. When one door closed, another one usually opened somewhere along the line.

Malcolm Reynolds maybe hot stuff, but he wasn't the only man around. Plenty of others she had to yet to meet as it so happened. If only she could talk Andre into joining her, though.

Andre was truly gifted in dance of all types. She had seen him make the switch from ballet to latin world beat to street dance and the robot without breaking a sweat. He was a strong partner, his confidence and professionalism made him solid and unwavering in lifting. He was firm and his grip always secure in a way that guaranteed safety, even when in a _cambre press_.

To have Andre on ice, combine their talents, their partnership of fifteen years, six as _prima_ and _premier_ , would be a dream come true, but it was not to be. He wanted to do pantomime, of all things, and River had to admit, panto was a good fit for him and his personality. Would allow him to get his crazy out before he had to adult for the rest of his life, but _oh_.

_What I wouldn’t give to perform Aurora’s dream dance on ice. Blindfold wouldn’t be allowed. Against the accessories rule. The audience would lap it up, though. Or Beauty and the Beast, even. Oh…_

The beautiful music of _I Know You_ waltzed up through her memory and her eyes closed, mind replacing 6’1 free range rude with a green eyed 6’1 Prince Désiré. Let herself get carried through and far on the lyrics, her background and capabilities shown off with every piece of footwork and change of edge her body performed to the music.

_I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream_

Oh, but how demanding Act I of The Sleeping Beauty had been. To be such a bubbling, effervescent sixteen year old girl meeting four suitors on that very birthday. Had to simultaneously glide and bounce and skitter across the floor, while showing all the excitement and wonder of being sweet sixteen and in the company of princes. Throw in having to hold the same position en pointe while taking four different hands, and it had been a true test of both character and her body.

_I know you, the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam_

Andre, that beautiful man, with his natural princely double lashes and charming temperament, would come along to take the pressure off her and she could just enjoy being on stage.

River pretended for a moment that her best friend was here with her, waltzing her over the ice, in full Désiré character, and dragging the audience along as the prince’s curse of loneliness was lifted in turn.

_Yet I know it’s true that visions are seldom all they seem..._

The last line threw her off when a vision of Mal’s irritated face jumped behind her eyeballs. River found herself stumbling out of her daydream when her toepick snagged and cut down a bit too deep. Managed to catch herself before she went completely onto her face and came to a stop.

There was no music playing.

No Andre.

No Malcolm Reynolds or his coach and choreographer.

The entire ice rink was completely empty and she was wholly alone.

 _Oh, well. Singles it is._  
  
Xxxx  
  
"Thought I'd find you here, Husband. How'd it go?"  
  
"Well, he said something, his coach and choreographer left, she left him speechless, and he left."

 "So, it went well?” Zoe laughed, then turned her eyes to the young woman standing alone in the middle of the rink, seemingly unsure of what to do now that everybody had left. “How’d she do?”

She looked at her husband when he didn’t reply, swallowing thickly when she saw an expression that had been missing from his jovial face for too damned long. His warm eyes were focused on that girl, his remaining hand curled into a fist under his chin, and she double checked his rear.

_Yup. On the edge of his seat._

Zoe made a mental note to stay quiet lest she ruin his concentration.

"You might have been in napkins when Kaito Tseung made history?"  
  
"That one of your pa’s?" She asked.

“Those were the programs dad did that turned me from flight school.” Wash confided, gaze like glass at the memory of both his pa and Tseung. "I just remember thinking a ship couldn’t fly so fast or get so high. Pa compared her to a skater called Midori Ito. Said Tseung’s take off was almost vertical in that she had so much strength."  
  
Zoe gave a low whistle. “An’ Tam? She like Tseung or this Ito?”

Her husband sat back, indecision all over his face. “She underperforms, wifey. Holds back. But her artistic portrayal is… How did you not _see_ that?! She performed Sleeping Beauty right there!” Wash yelled at her, his wide eyes accusing and scowling at the same time.

She bit back the urge to loudly laugh right there and then. “Could be I was busy elsewhere.”

The gossip thirty rat that was her husband gasped and leaned in like an eager puppy begging for table scraps. “Did you lipread? What did he say?”

“Didn’t get it all.”

Wash petulantly pouted with all the grace of their toddler daughter. “What good are _you_?”

“But I did catch the words plastic and tits.” Zoe finished.

He grimaced. “You’d have broken his pinky, right, wife? Or cut his throat. Because I saw you do that.”

“An’ well deserved a cuttin’ it was.”  
  
“And then some.” He wisely agreed, his wide grin an attempt at charm.

Zoe rolled her eyes and looked back at the young woman who was now doing laps around the rink. No doubt stretching her legs following her flight from Osiris in an effort to make up for four days of no on-ice training. Four days for a new skater could, and sometimes had, spelled disaster. “So what of her? Would she fit with the cap’n?”

Wash snorted. “If he bothered to put in the effort, you mean? Why Nan let that partnership happen is beyond me. Serra would have better off in singles. She relied too much on Reynolds.”

His lack of talk regarding Atherton Wing was far more telling than anything he could have said. Not that she could blame him, of course. She knew fine well in which direction Wing’s capabilities ran, and being one of the three people privy to certain goings on, she knew that partnership was going to end in a lot of tears.

Her husband knocked her attention back to him. “Tam needs work on her technicals. Needs to learn how to take a fall. Less… Loose. Too much grace. Looks like she’s not in control. Too…”

“Ballerina.” Zoe completed.

“Yes. Too ballerina.” Wash kept up his study. “She would soar if I trained her. But what about Emma? She’s still so young and I’d hate to have her think...”

She didn’t bat an eyelash. Their girl would learn more from watching her pa hard at work than t’otherwise. “Girl will learn plenty from watchin’ her daddy work them long hours. Could be you even involve her, show her what it takes to follow her dreams. That it ain’t all sunshine an’ glory. You goin’ to do it? Train her? What about Reynolds? Think it’ll happen?”

“Maybe.” His one arm shrugged. “If Beauty can see through the Beastly.”


	3. Arabesque

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Arabesque is a leg position where the free leg is held out in a straight behind the body and is used for the Camel spin.

_Chapter 3…_

 

Neither Nandi or Petaline had answered or replied to his many waves over the last four hours, and nor had Rance, though he supposed he ought to be grateful about that. His sponsor was no doubt ticking over the many ways in which to hide a dismembered body of exactly 6'1 in height and 160 pounds.

Mal put down odds on a bullet right to balls, which had been threatened more times than he could count by the Mayor as he called Rance. Hated though that name was, it suited the old man right down to the ground. Particularly when Burgess got dead set on something and there weren't no changing his mind.

Rance Burgess had the heart of a believer, and when he landed on an idea, mindset and suchlike, that was it. It was his way or no way and the fellow stuck his heels in but good.  
  
Petaline could attest to the old man's refusal to change his mind, and that was one thing that never failed to make Mal chortle.

Mrs. Burgess never stood a chance once the Mayor caught sight of her in a dark corner of a strip club, furiously choreographing for a stripper on the back of several napkins. Now the woman was just gone seventeen weeks pregnant and that meant couple of months time? He weren't just down a partner of ten years, but his choreographer. Throw in his appalling behaviour to River Tam and he could well be out a sponsor to boot.

River.  
  
Mal dropped his piece of toast onto his plate, her triple axel-double toe loop combination had been a thing of beauty. Clean landings, concentration and focus kept under control, and that girl's Haircutter spin had damned near stopped his heart.

The blade had been far too close to the back of her head, and he had to leave just so as to bite his tongue. Her potential couldn't be denied, that was for gorram sure, but her techniques, her natural flexibility could well see an end to her far too soon.

In the right hands, with the right team, River Tam was a gold medalist, but getting the right team was everything. That girl with the wrong partner, the wrong coach, wrong choreographer? She would end up severely injured and out before she could rutting blink.

Not that he could be classed as a good partner. Not after what he'd said. He hadn't just been condescending and rude, but a hair shy of being downright spiteful just for the hell of it. Talking to a woman like that where he came from would start a whole lot of punching, and if his ma ever found out...

Mal touched his left ear to rub it free of the phantom pain caused by many a clout when he got too big for his boots as a young 'un. His ma brooked no nonsense and was a stern, yet fair ranch manager. She'd raised him to be a decent man and his behaviour weren't only a reflection of who he was a person, but a reflection of his upbringing, and he'd insulted not just River Tam, but also his ma.

He needed to apologise, he knew, and not just to Tam, but to Nandi, Petaline, and the Mayor. Had to call time on the pity party he'd thrown since Serra left him for good ol Ath, neither of which he'd seen since The Exhibition on Londinium.

Unfortunately for him, he hadn't been able to find out where Tam was staying, and no matter how much he cajoled, charmed, and blatantly tried to bribe, no hotel could be teased into giving out information. He would check with the ship docklands, but that would just put him on the radar as a bona fide stalker, and he could well do without that level of scandal.

Circus music knocked Mal out of his remorse and he flipped open his C-pad, seeing Nandi's face come to life in full super definition as per hi-tech gadgetry cleverness.

Coach didn't look best pleased. _"You waved."_

Didn't sound best pleased, either, and he cleared his throat free of crumbs. "I owe you an apology, Nan."

She said nothing.

"I owe you all an apology. Includin' Miss Tam. Especially Miss Tam. I weren't..." Mal licked his dry mouth as his comment about her folks flashed through his mind. "I weren't kind to her. Weren't a man."

Nan didn't so much as blink. _"I've a mind to never lay eyes on you again. River Tam, Mal. River ruttin' Tam. I've been angry at you many a time. I've been frustrated, annoyed, pained, but I ain't never been ashamed of you. Not once have I ever felt ashamed."_

That hurt.

That really fucking hurt to hear, especially coming from her, and last night's gut rot whiskey straight threatened to repeat on him. He swallowed thickly. "I am sorry, Nan. I ain't been myself of late."

_"No, you've been Atherton Wing."_

He flinched at the comparison she made. "I need to 'pologise to her. Could be I hand deliver that free pen my own self."

His joke fell flat.

_"You'll do no such damned thing, you hear me? I've run enough interference on your behalf today."_

"Rance?"

_"Rance."_ Nandi confirmed, clipped.

"How bad?" Mal did not wanna know, but morbid curiosity won out.

_"He won't be renewin' if that's what you're askin'. Once the next season is over, you two part ways."_

His eyes slid shut.

_Gou-shi._

Could be he should just retire and save himself the humiliation. It would be good to spend awhile with ma and the fellows back at the ranch. Could be it do him some good to get back on a horse for a spell.

Nandi’s eyes narrowed. _“Don’t you ruttin’_ dare _, Malcolm Reynolds. So help me, I will shoot you dead.”_

“Then what?” Mal half spat bitterly. “Look who I’m up against.”

_“Yes. Lets. Yamaguchi and Krychenkov. Yuen Xing and Patty Nester. Eddie Lee and Kristyanne Finn. Serra and Wing._ You _.”_ She said fiercely. _“You are better n’ all of those boys put togorramgether. You know…”_

“Know what? That I’m ruttin’ 25 an’ ain’t yet got a gold to my name? Yeah, you’re right. I know. Ten years an’ three championships, boat load of silver, but where’s my gold, Nan? You tell me. I just ain’t good enough. Why Inara left, ain’t it?”

_“Buddha, Mal. Is that what this is about?”_ Nandi laughed wildly, but without humour. _“You know what? Ain’t no talkin’ to you in this mood. Worse than Rance hissel’.”_

“Am I?” Mal asked for truth.

She fell silent, her stare heavy enough as to penetrate the airwaves. _“What’s happened to you, Mal? An’ don’t you be sayin’ her name. It ain’t just her an’ you know it. You go think on it some. An’ don’t be goin’ near River Tam. You made a big enough fool out of us yesterday.”_

“Course.” He nodded.

_“I mean it, Reynolds. If I ever see you treat a fan like that again? I’ll drop you faster n’ you can hogtie an’ castrate a bull. An’ Mal? Tam’s at the Pavilion. Make it good. Nandi out.”_  
  
Xxxx

Mal dropped his bag on the floor, his gaze critical as he watched River make full and total use of the entire rink. Her movements were almost fluid and she effortlessly transitioned from one foot to the other, a talent that simply couldn't be taught by any instructor in the 'verse. Probably why she made prima ballerina at such a young age, he gathered.

Despite her talent, she was unrefined in many a way, more dancer in that her artistry shone while her technicals were off. Her jumps too quick and heavy landings removed the speed needed to pull off a triple combination. Her double and triple jumps, however, were things of beauty.

_Could probably match with Zoe Alleyne her own self._

Her spins were perfect, but dangerous with her blades cutting too close to her head. Her I-spin, on the other hand, made his balls pull tight in sympathy and he winced. Very few skaters had such a level of flexibility as to be an almost perfect vertical line. He couldn't do it, Yamaguchi couldn't do it, and he was willing to bet neither could Patty Nester nor Essie Sixsmith herself.

Girl was good, and with the right team, she could be magnificent. River Tam, and himself he supposed after being so far down the gorram rabbit hole, needed work. A lot of rutting work at that, but Buddha, he wanted to see what that girl was made of under all them brains and ballet.

Wanted to see what River Tam was truly capable of, how to bring that natural talent and fluidity right out for all the 'verse to see.

Discovering talent had always been a love of his, and that girl weren't no different, and he felt giddy as he watched her gather the speed necessary to perform a triple lutz.

Mal snatched a breath.

River was going too fast when she pushed off the ice, the height she achieved stopped his breath before she landed clean and clear. Her free leg gracefully stretched right out behind her as she swooped down into a wide and stunning arch that lead straight into a one foot arabesque.

Mal's loud clap brought River to halt, her face flushed a bright pink and dewy from working up a good sweat. He walked down to the edge of the ice. "Nice arabesque, but goin' too fast on your lutz."  
  
"A jump in skating is similar to those in pole vaulting in how linear momentum must be changed into vertical momentum. Increasing the velocity allows a skater to theoretically achieve a greater height while travelling over a greater distance." She paused. "Maybe you're too slow."

His eyebrow twitched at her response. He had heard she laid claim to some mighty smarts in that head of hers. “We’ll see about that.”  
  
River said nothing else, just stood there several feet away and looking for all the 'verse like he weren't but an irritating tick.

He sighed, his hand rubbed from jaw to the nape of his neck as he averted his gaze. Apologies did not come easy for him. "Could be I owe you..."  
  
"Nothing. You owe me nothing. I'm going singles."  
  
"You'd be wasted in singles." He replied, gaze now on her. "Jump like that? Get you all the gold in the 'verse, but you'd be wasted. Unless gold is all you want, o' course. Is it?"

"Why the question?"  
  
"If we feel the need as to pair up..."  
  
"Forced teaming. There is no _we_. I'm going into singles."  
  
Mal shook his head. He'd have go about this the hard way. "Ain't much point in this chit-chat, then. Let me know when you're done so as I can get some practice in."

"I was on a Mark I Hornet for four days. I'll be a while."  
  
"Why the rut were you on one of them things? Ain't the room to swing a cat." He had the answer the second he finished talking and his face burned a deep red that felt as hot as it probably looked. Short notice travel never afforded anybody a decent seat, not even the rich folk it seemed. "Never mind."

River pushed off with the toepick and it occurred to him, then. That four days of being cooped up on a ship where there weren’t room to swing a cat, and she still had the ability to pull off that swooping glide that sent her into that arabesque.  
  
Mal shook his head, unzipping his bag with one hand and working his boots with the other, his gaze drifting up to her once or twice until it was time to lace up. Matching blades, he thought with a smirk as he gave a final shunt of his foot.

"You mind?" He called out, pointing once to the ice, but only got a shrug in response. As always, he knocked his toepick twice against the boards for good measure and heard the satisfying sound of a sharp blade cutting down into the icy surface.

He started easy with a few laps built up around simple footwork to warm his muscles. Switched feet through brackets and then sped up enough to launch into a triple lutz, his landing clean and free leg stretched out into a gliding arabesque.  
  
He frowned.

It hadn't been a perfect replica of hers and that extended swoop didn't happen. So he tried it her way, increasing his speed just so, and pushing up, arms tucked tight for three rotations before he landed clean. His free leg swooped out, fully controlled and yet not controlled enough so as to be rigid.

Mal bit his tongue and finished the arabesque before kicking off into a few more laps, careful to keep well out of the path of Miss Know It All.

Triple axel, he thought smugly. He was known for his triple axels.  
  
Sent a nice, shiny smile her way as he sped past her, arms out for balance and turned, lifting his body up and forwards, landing the triple with ease. Followed through a double toe-double toe combination. Smiled again.

River zoomed past him, covering a yawn with the back of her hand, building ever more speed and went into a triple salchow, followed by a half loop, and a second triple salchow. Smiled and twirled away, changing feet with ease.  
  
Mal smirked, smug as could be.

A salchow was no triple...  
  
She jumped, a full three and a half rotations later, landed clean as a gorram whistle and went past him. "Anything else?"  
  
Now he scowled, _really_ scowled.  
  
He'd show _her_.

Mal's smile was tight this time, and about as sarcastic as he could make it given he were faced with a newbie who appeared to think she could teach him a thing or two. Which she couldn't. He had Olympic medals and two championships to his name and what did _she_ have?

“A PhD in physics.” River’s twizzle was as elegant as her arabesque. “That I got when I was twelve.”

He blinked as she zipped away at the speed of light. One eye roll later and he was off after her, determined to shove a big slice of humble pie down her smart mouth. Fast as she was, he had much longer legs that went a fair ways to catching up to her.  
  
A grin spread across his face as he reached out, fingertips brushed the fabric of her blouse, but that was all he got. She spun, thumb to her nose and fingers wiggling before both arms spread out to reign in her balance. She faced forwards and one single axel later, flipped to her left foot and played shoot-the-Mal with her right leg.  
  
Sure, she had technicals and jumps in her repertoire, but any skater worth their salt knew it were footwork and step sequences that testified to their skills.

“Think you’re clever? Somethin’ special? Let’s see you do this...” Mal went with a three turn to start, crossed feet, swung his shoulders around and brought everything together for a high speed spin.

She upped the ante. He watched, still as could be, as she went into a twizzle sequence that included four rotations on her right foot and three on her left, all performed from the forward inside edge. One toepick down into the ice brought her to a sudden halt and the wretch popped her lips and threw down the gauntlet with a blown kiss.

Mal arched a brow right before he sent his most charming smile as he made a show of brushing that kiss clean off his shoulder. Kicked it away with his blade. Smiled again.

River opened that minxy plump mouth and a man’s voice came out.

“That was the best short program I’ve ever seen created in four minutes!” The shock on her face ripped a bark of loud, solid laughter straight from his throat.  
  
_Oh, I know that voice good n’ plenty. Wait for it..._  
  
Hoban Washburne didn’t disappoint with his finish. “Now if you two put some effort into it, you might even suck!”

Xxxx

Anybody who was anybody knew who the couple were, and River was no different.

Hoban Washburne, both coach and choreographer to all of the greats, right from Marcus DeLangiere and Rosalie Bowen to Zoe Alleyne and Eliza Redfern. His programs were as simple as buttered bread, yet more complex than star charts. He had the ability to build the bridge between technicals and artistry, something so many skaters and trainers lacked. His training regimes were known for being outside the box, with his students taking a variety of classes from abstract painting all the way to astronomy.

_“Have to know the stars you’re reaching for.”_ Was his often repeated quote.

It was an honour to meet him, she knew, and offered a deep curtsey as a show of respect for him as both coach and man. Not many folk in the ‘verse would sacrifice a limb to save a life, but he did, and that was truly something indeed.

Wash waved her greetings off as he stepped onto the rim of the ice, his bright gaze full of warm humour and goodness, immediately putting her at ease in his presence.

“Good to see you back on form, Mal.” Wash grinned.  
  
“An’ you. Zoe.” Mal’s azure eyes reflected a smile all his own, made him handsome enough for to River avert her own gaze a moment. Realised the choreographer thought they were partners and she died a little inside.

Hoban Washburne.  
  
Zoe Washburne.  
  
Malcolm Reynolds.

To work with either one of these people was, quite literally, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, but all three?

Excitement zapped every nerve she owned, the sting of it sharp and sudden and turned her eyes to hot glass as her chest squeezed so very tight. Everything she ever dreamed of stood right in front of her and she couldn’t have it, not when the hands and heart of Malcolm Reynolds were so full of prejudice towards her.

Figure skating was a sport that was taxing, exhausting, and extremely hard work, but more than that, it was a dangerous sport. Pairs figure skating held more danger than single with twist lifts and throws and side-by-side elements that required solid trust and respect on both parties to become successful.

It would be nothing short of absolute insanity to partner with somebody who couldn’t be trusted to look on her, think on her, with less than the utmost respect. She couldn’t trust him and without trust, pairs had nothing between them and a broken bone or worse.

With pairs having such close relationships, it would mean her family and friends would end up in Mal’s company. Simon, her brother, had sacrificed for her time and again. Her friends who were there when she needed them most, her parents who willingly signed away their rights so that she may receive the protection afforded to Wards of the State.  

_So many sacrifices._  

There wasn’t a force in the ‘verse or the heavens that could induce her into exposing those people to so much bitter prejudice. Not even the promise of being trained by Hoban Washburne was persuasion enough to put those closest to her into the hate and spite Malcolm Reynolds held for those in her circle.

_Four days._ River thought, pained. _Possible eight-ten day round trip to and from Osiris. Over a week of no training, no coach, no choreographer. I won’t make the grade this season, so I’m out. I’ll be 23 for the next Olympics, and 27 for the one after that. Could my joints stand a third at 31? I’ll have Championships, Four Worlds. Tours. Maybe Cirque La Glace if I can train hard enough to make up for this. One season. One Olympics doesn’t matter._

“Ah, Jayne. It still amazes me how his brain learned human speech!” Washburne’s voice knocked River out of her thoughts.

_Have to get out before this becomes a public relations nightmare and we end up on prime time for all the wrong reasons._

“I’ll leave you all to catch up.” River smiled politely and gave another curtsey for good measure. “Good luck finding a partner more suited to your way of mind. Maybe we’ll bump into each other on the circuit one day. It was nice to meet you Mr. Washburne, Mrs. Washburne.”

Their shock could be felt inside and the sharp recoil on Mal’s face hit her like a freighter, but she didn’t stop. If she stopped, she would change her mind, and disaster would ensue. So she sprinted, not skated, to where her bag lay. Toepicks cut and clunked hard into the ice, all the while keeping her gaze away from the others. Snatched up her blade guards and shoved them on quick as she could and ran for the exit, not letting the door hit her ass on the way out.


	4. Combination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Combination of things makes for a full rotation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Combination is a mix of two or more elements, such as spins or jumps, which are performed in succession. One of the most common spin Combinations is going from Haircutter to a Bielmann as the only difference is the height of the free leg behind the head.

It hadn’t long gone dark when River found herself shaken awake, her brain sloshing around inside her pounding skull, no doubt due to trying to sleep through landings and takings off of what sounded like a billion boats. Her eyes were gritty, sore, and she knew if she saw them, they would be redder than a robin’s breast in winter. Still, she prised them open and found the kind face of the old docksmaster smiling down at her.

She smacked her arid lips, only to get a mouthful of fumes and the subsequent cough rattled her chest. “What time is it?”

“Not long gone seven, ma’am. Ain’t no more transport vessels today, I’mma sorry to say. Next chase into town is in ten minutes.”

River nodded and pushed her aching body upright, rudely yawning noisy loud and wide. “Oh, pardon me, sir. Are there any lodgings in town? Don’t care what.”

“A few. Though none so fine as to what you’re used to, iff’n ya pardon me fer sayin’, ma’am.” The docksmaster took her bag and guided her towards the post station across the ways.

“If there’s a bed and no ships, I’ll take it.” She took him by surprise with a hug of gratitude. “Thank you for being nice to me.”

“Well now…” The older man awkwardly patted her on the back in response. “An’ here’s the post, so as we got here in time.”

River wondered just how bad she looked when the driver of the chase and greys took one hell of a double take at the sight of her. “How much to the nearest bed?”

“Ta’ th’ door, ma’am?”

She nodded.

“Two silver.”

River almost fainted in relief when she got inside the carriage, the soft fabric still partially warm from the previous occupant, and gave a nod at the two others sitting opposite her. Opened her wristlet reticule. “Take five.”

“Yes’m, thank ya’, ma’am.”

“Take care, ma’am.” The docksmaster stayed, making sure she was settled before he placed her bag at her feet and doffed his cap.

The sound of hooves on dirt was almost hypnotic in rhythm and she dozed lightly, letting the soft motion of the chaser sooth her pounding skull into a dull throb. She would have to give in and take a pill, she thought, if she wanted to get an uninterrupted sleep, and she hated pills. Had hated them since the evaluation for Schizophrenia as a child.

It hadn’t been Schizophrenia, of course, just a third eye strong enough to make her one of twenty six in the ‘verse considered legitimate enough to be on a register. She’d helped with unsolved crimes, and had even once or twice helped clear up a last will and testament.

Her poor mother had all but passed out on realising the imaginary friend wasn’t so much imaginary as dead for eighty years.

_ "M-Mrs. Maurice? But she died, darling. How can you talk to her if she died? Gabriel. Gabriel!" _

River’s chuckle drew the attention of the other passengers for a moment. “You had to be there.” She said, sore gaze looking out the small window and up at the star-filled sky.

Too much light pollution and cloud on Osiris to really see the ‘verse as it should be seen, so she missed a lot of things. Meteor showers, comets, ships, and the rare passing of Miranda as her elliptical orbit took her behind both Bellerophon and Beaumonde, so the planet was only seen once every forty two years from Osiris.

Speaking of…

There it was.

_ Home. _

A solid white dot twenty three degrees to the right of Ariel and opposite Verbana, and more or less a straight line from where she was on Persephone.

She sighed, eyes closed as she unsuccessfully wished for the power of teleportation. Wanted to be in her own bed at home, where she could hear the low hum of her computers running away in the background, where the air unit filtered out the toxic smell of the chemicals needed to make her nail polish.  Instead, here she was, in the dry heat of summer on Persephone, exhausted and willing to sleep in a bush if need be, but never mind. Wasn’t anybody’s fault bar her own that she took such a huge gamble. 

A gamble that hadn’t paid off and anybody who gambled knew the odds were always stacked against the player.

Again, never mind.

A quick rap on the roof jolted River awake and she scrubbed some life into her raw eyes in an effort to keep them open long enough to find her way.

“Allow me, ma’am…” The driver unlatched the door and took her bag until she was out.

“Please, take another silver. Thank you.” She pushed a sixth coin into his hand without hesitation and walked to the entrance of a tavern a few feet away.

It was full, she saw, with fiddle music and the sound of dancing and painfully off key singing, but that didn’t matter. Not when the holographic sign in the window read vacancies. She would get a small bowl of soup and bread roll just to put something on her stomach, then go straight to bed, ready to hit the docks come first light.

Xxxx

Mal pushed his empty tumbler towards the young serving girl and gestured with his chin for another. Yes, he’d regret the hell out of this, but gutrot whiskey were the only way as to adequately drown his sorrows given how the little bastards had learned how to swim.

The lively atmosphere of Yancy’s weren’t doing a damned thing to cheer him up, and he found the longer he sat there, the more the upbeat tempo of Bendis’ fiddle grated on his last gorram nerve. Made his head hurt in actual fact and he rubbed the bridge of his nose as he took his third whiskey from the barkeep.

He tipped the glass in thanks, got himself a considering eye for the attention. He laid that offer to rest quick as maybe. “Not tonight, darlin’.” Quietly chuckled when she rolled her eyes in annoyance and flounced away from his time wasting self. 

_ Have this one an’ git on home ‘afore the hockey team shows up. The hell knows my liver’s still recoverin’ from the last time they celebrated. _

A giant hand landed a solid thunk that pushed his spine up into his throat and whiskey shot out of his nose at the speed of a Firefly going hard burn. Managed to turn his head to the side before he sputtered all over the bar, coughing a cough that scraped his throat red rutting raw.

“Thought ya might be here.”

Mal dazedly stared through watery eyes at the bulky figure of Jayne Cobb. Frankly stated. “You heard.”

“Yeeup.” Came the gruff response. “We’s kept it outta th’ press.”

“Appreciated. How’d it go with Ess?”

Filth radiated from the big man’s blue eyes and two large hands rapidly rubbed together. “I’mma need whiskey. Straight. Lots of it, too.”

Mal snorted and tipped his glass. “What she say?”

“That she’da skate on my,” he made quotes with his fingers. “Hairy hockey pucks iff’n I ever came within six feet a’ her.”

He stared at Cobb, uncomprehending how the fellow could see a compliment in that, let alone see that he were about to get lucky. “Least she didn’t run away at the speed o’ light.”

Jayne winced. “You win this round. Next ‘un’s’ on me.”

“Nan’s already got my hide. No tellin’ what she’ll do if I hit the bottle.”

“Jus’ how bad was it?”

Mal let out a bark of laughter that held no trace of humour and he downed half his gutrot in one gulp. “Wished me luck in findin’ a partner more suited to my way of mind, then ran. Sprinted more’s the case. Wash were there.”

Jayne stared. “Gotta be shittin’ me.”

“Nope. Girl didn’t give a rats ass long as she got far as could be. Didn’t even stop to change into her shoes. Just…” His palm cut a straight line through the air.

“Women.” The captain of Hera’s hockey team shook his head. Lowered his voice so as not to be heard. “The fellas as got a poker game on. Want in? Ten credit minimum bet. Jacks to open an’ trips to win.”

Mal regarded the hockey player a minute, thumb tap-tap-tapping off his half empty glass. Glanced around to check for any opportunistic eavesdroppers who might go tattling to Nandi about his partaking of the team’s illegal games. “Why not. Ain’t like I got better waitin’ on me at home.”

He drained the last of his drink and stood, scooping his coat up off his stool, and followed Jayne towards the stairs that lead up to the card table. Hadn’t quite reached the top when the voice of a serving girl were heard.

“Ma’am, this ain’t th’ sort o’ ‘stablishment as to get sleep in.” The young woman were saying, clear trying to speak as best she could.

“Does it have beds?”

Mal sucked in a breath at the familiar creamed honey voice of River Tam.

“It got eight.” The young server stated right proud.

“Then it’s the sort of establishment to get sleep in.” River’s voice weren’t so much honeyed now as it was tired.

Exhausted, he corrected himself. She sounded through and through worn out.

“T’ain’t… Well, ma’am. S’jus’ th’ hockey team comes in of a Wedsdeh an’ place gets mighty loud.”

There was lengthy pause.

“How loud?”

Another lengthy pause.

“I just want somewhere to sleep and a bowl of hot soup. That’s all. I don’t care about the noise. I don’t. Even if I get half hour, it’ll be an improvement over last night.”

“P’sephone don’t got many lodgin’s open at this time o’ year. Heat too dry, y’see, an’ the roads get powerful dusty.”

“I’ll pay double the gorram rates for six hours in a bed and a bowl of soup with a bread roll.  _ Please _ .”

Mal flinched at the desperation coming loud and clear in River’s voice. She’d come all the way from Osiris, hadn’t she, to try out and seemed to be she hadn’t been able to get a late seat on a flight home. Nor did she have a place to stay if he were hearing correctly. All of which were technically his fault so to speak, having given reason for her to travel on a Mark I Hornet.

_ Four days to get here, possibly five or six to get back. She plannin’ to travel for an entire week. That’s a long time for a newcomer to go without trainin’. What about her coach? She ain’t never mentioned one. Ain’t right her career should take a fall on account of my bastard mood. Gotta be a better man. Gotta stop the self ruttin’ pity cos I ain’t just hurtin’ myself no more. _

The former champion ran a hand down his face and got a good whiff of the gutrot as the scent bounced off his palm. Well, weren’t a thing to be done about that now.

“An’ who's this sugar pie?”

Mal’s eyes flew open.

_ Jayne! _

Took the last five steps in two strides in an effort to stop whatever fresh hell was about to ensue and came to a sudden halt.

River looked like death warmed up, with her skin pale and reddened eyes that didn’t want to stay open longer than was completely necessary. Thick chestnut hair half hung down and out of what had been a neat, if severe, bun and now lay in a flat, tatty mess against her spine.

She squinted up at him, gaze flitting to Jayne and back again, pupils growing wider than goddamned saucers.

“We’s gonna have a good ‘un iff’n ya want in.” Jayne’s gruff chortle came complete with a hard crack to Mal’s ass.

Amber eyes went rutting  _ huge _ .

Mal was not ignorant to how that would look to River, given how he’d come upstairs in a tavern known for its brothel rooms with a strapping fellow such as Jayne Cobb.

He stared dead on down the hall and cursed his lack of witchcraft so as to make the ground open right up and swallow him whole. 

Jayne, in all his infinite wisdom, opened the first door on the right. “You comin’ or jus’ gon’ stand there all day? I’s got us some hooch to get th’ juices flowin’. See ya in here an’ don’t be too long cos I’mma feelin’ all kindsa lucky.”

River’s eyes blinked up at him owlishly, her head pushed forward and cocked ever so to the side.

Mal dragged his palm and all five fingers from forehead, down his nose, and only stopped when his fist curled under his chin. Stood there for a moment or two, looking back on his life and accomplishments, and nope. Weren’t a thing that compared to this here shining example of what not to do in front of a woman.

“So.” He tried to smile. “Couldn’t get a flight home, huh?”

River shook her head.

“Tried sleepin’ at the docks?”

That pretty lil face bobbed a nod.

“Explains the, uh…” Mal wagged his finger by his eyes, but refrained from saying so. Women tended to get a mite tetchy about suchlike.

“I should…”

“Look, I don’t…”

Awkwardness at the double speak settled heavily between them and he kicked himself at the way River winced as she adjusted her large kit bag on her shoulder. Girl had to be aching all the way to hell and high water.

“I don’t live far from here. An’ I got a room.” She blinked and he cleared his throat, face reddening. “A spare room. Save your ears from the fresh hell about to start downstairs in half hour. Jayne’s team. They come cause a ruckus here on...”

“Wednesday nights.” River finished. “So I’ve heard. I-thank you for the offer, but it’s not… I don’t want to put you to any troubles.”

Weren’t him being to put any troubles here. He weren’t the one ready to drop where he stood.

“Ain’t any trouble.” Mal said seriously. “You wouldn’t be here if it weren’t on account of me. Firm mattress on that spare bed, too.”

A pink tongue swept across her lips. She were tempted. He could tell.

“There’s a post station two minutes down an’ right across from a breakfast bar.” She almost drooled at the thought of food. Girl probably hadn’t eaten in hours and after their little encounter early on, it weren’t a wonder she were flagging. He sweetened the deal a bit more. “S’good food.  _ Great _ pancakes.”

River swallowed and chewed on her lip. “You’re not going to murder me?”

“How’s about I kill you? You can kill me right back.” Mal offered up helpfully.

Then it happened.

The tavern doors burst wide open and the unholy noise of several graceless men stomped inside, singing off key and at a decibel loud enough to wake the gorram dead. A deep, baritone belch was heard, followed by gruff laughter and a lotta congratulations on such a fine display of masculinity. If that weren’t enough, their theme sure was.

“WEEEEEE’LLLLL….

PEEL OFF YER SKIN FROM YER HEAD TO YER TOES

TIE IT IN A BOW AN’ STITCH IT TO OUR CLOTHES

RIP OFF YER FINGERS AN’ SHOVE ‘EM UP YER NOSE

AIN’T GOT THE MERCY FOR ANY OF OUR FOES…”

She didn’t even last a second after the harmonised first verse began. “So, you have a spare room?”


	5. Counter-Turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A change of mind is a woman's prerogrative.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Counter-turn is a turn made on one foot that remains on the same edge and results in a change of lobe with the rotation being made outside of the original lobe. A lobe is a semi-circle, so a counter-turn takes a skater, for example, from the lower half of one semi-circle, rotation occurs in the middle of both semi-circles, and the skater would end up on the upper part of the second semi-circle.

The clock beeped loud and clear at exactly 5:45 am, and Mal hit the damned thing as he rolled over. Early risings were one of the many perks to his way of life, he supposed, and yawned, one arm stretching high and wrist turning until a satisfying pop cracked loud. Scrubbed his face awake and slowly sat, clapped his hands a bit too loud and had his eyes burned when his overly sensitive lighting system went into supernova.

“Christ!” Three quieter claps later, and the sharp blindness caused by a megawatt glare eased into standard 6 am blurry vision. He sat there awhile, arms on kneecaps, brain working to catch up when a slight noise caught his attention.

_River. Right. No doubt she’ll be up an’ packin’ to get out of here quick as maybe. Can’t let her go with at least an apology. She ain’t… She ain’t deservin’ of what I said. Nobody is._

Mal snagged yesterday’s pants off the floor and shoved them on, fastening up as he walked to the bedroom door and slid it open with a soft hiss. He was expecting to find her trying to sneak out or suchlike, but he was pleasantly surprised to discover her kit bag still on his lounge floor.

River would be well beyond ravenous by the time she woke up given all she’d managed were four mouthfuls of reheated hash soup last night. Trying to spoonfeed a woman half asleep weren’t something that would be leaving his mind any time soon.

What she needed were eggs.

_An’ toast swimmin’ in real, one hundred percent undiluted Persephone butter. Could be I make her breakfast instead o’ orderin’. Do somethin’ nice. Maybe go a ways to showin’ her I ain’t a hwen dan. That I were just in a mood. As though that makes it any better, which it don’t._

His bare feet padded to his kitchen and went straight to the fridge for a look see, and sent all the blessings in the ‘verse to lil Kaylee next door. Girl was a rutting gift when it came to shopping and never missed a trick with what to get.

He had all the trimmings for a decent breakfast, from gammon cut bacon right through to a large jar of honey, made fresh from her pa’s bees. Made a mental note to do something nice for his neighbour slash grocery shopper. “You lil darlin’.”

Mal took out the entire box of eggs, packet of bacon, mushrooms, full beef tomatoes, and one lean chicken breast. Paused before he reached for the two pack of chocolate mousse. Wouldn’t hurt none, he figured, to indulge just this once. After all, the season were still a few months away and after the nightmare of the last couple of days, River and himself could stand a treat.

_Nan were wrong when she said I’ve been Atherton Wing. Ath woulda sucked right on up to her. Get in good with the rich girl an’ her rich family. I won’t even get to meet her family. No-one in their right way o’ mind would so much as…_

He paused as he realised why she’d declined to pair up with him.

River weren’t gonna introduce her nearest and dearest to a fellow who thought them less than a steaming pile of go-se. She’d more or less put her career square on the line so as to keep them she loved away from his personal brand of charm. That said family were mighty important to her.

More important than the opportunity to work with a fellow like Wash, and it were a show of fine character on her part, weren’t it?

Then there were herself.

_Ain’t no skater in their right would see fit as to let a partner throw ‘em ‘cross the ice with so little respect. Can’t be trustin’ a partner who thinks so poor-like. So River Tam ain’t just book smart, she’s wise. Wisdom can’t be taught in no school, fancy or not. A thinker. S’what she is._

The hiss of scalding oil jolted Mal out of his thoughts and he moved one fry pan to a cool hob and put the sliced chicken into the other to brown off. Was about to prep the rest when a soft voice full of sleepy husk came from the doorway.

“You’re cooking?”

He glanced sideways, not surprised to see her ready to leave. All she were missing were her jacket and he could see that placed over top of her kit bag. Her hair was the next thing he took note of. How it were long enough to nigh on kiss her rear. How the only bit of dye to be found in all that hair were of a soft honey that brought out the amber in her eyes to full effect.

His shirt were the only thing that weren’t hers, and it hung on her like a rutting tent. The hem that reached his waist skimmed her mid-thigh while the short sleeves went down to her slender bicep, enhancing her light figure to the full.

_Pretty…_

“Thought I may as take the opportunity seein’ I don’t get the chance to make for more n’ myself these days. Sometimes lil Kaylee comes by from next door when she ain’t busy with her engines an’ the like.”

River nodded. “What about the great pancakes? Like you said.”

“Place ain’t open for another hour.” Mal glanced at her again. “An’ you have to be on the wrong side o’ ravenous by now.”

“Oh. Well, my stomach is a little empty.” A momentary silence followed. “Thank you. Again. You’ve been kind.”

“Not so much.” He said quietly, ruefully. “Still, s’preciated. Sit your rear down. Won’t be too long.”

“Need some help?”

He thought about turning her offer down, but shook it off. It would save any awkwardness if she had something to do as opposed to nothing. “There’s tea here abouts. Could be you make that.”

River nodded. “Milk and sugar, loose leaf or bag?”

“Milk, no sugar. Loose.”

“Somebody with _sense_.”

Mal snorted and cracked all six eggs into a bowl, seasoned with salt and pepper, and reached for two big mugs as she retrieved the milk from the fridge. He gave the chicken a shake as she took it on herself to throw the bacon and mushroom into the mix.

“Good sleep?”

“It beat the docks cots.” She gave a half smile. “Teapot?”

“Cupboard ‘bove the… Lemme get that. S’bit high.” She moved out the way to make room for him. “Scoop’s in that there holder.”

Mal ran his tongue along his lower teeth as silence yet again descended between them with only the whistling of the kettle to break it. Moved to get crockery and cutlery, ready for dish up. Paused, plate in a white knuckle grip for a minute. Got the apology out before they sat down so they could eat without it hanging over their heads. “I feel the need as to ‘pologise. An’ not ‘cause I owe you. Weren’t right what I said. Ain’t just a poor reflection on me, but my raisin’. She knew? She’d have the notion as to put me over her knee for a hidin’. I ain’t… That ain’t my way of mind, River.”

She nodded, her gaze averted, and he wished he’d just kept his mouth shut. “It’s alright.”

“No.” He shook his head firmly. “No. It ain’t alright. It were crass. An’ I ain’t sayin’ this for gratitude over a night’s lodgin’s. I’m sayin’ it cos it’s the right thing to do is all.”

He watched her suck that full lower lip in between her teeth, could almost smell her mind ticking away under all that hair. Her throat bobbed in a heavy swallow before she looked at him through them big amber eyes. Gave him a tiny half smile. “We all have our down days. Known for it myself.”

It didn’t go so far as to make him feel better about it, but right now, he’d take whatever kindness he could get. “I ‘preciate that. Let’s see about gettin’ you fed decent-like.”

Silence reigned, still awkward, as he set about finishing the omelette while River made the tea, and each time he smiled at her, she smiled right on back. It were nice, weren’t it, to have another person here so as he weren’t on his lonesome listening to the same old sounds as could be found his place.

Mal dished up as she laid the cutlery and got two napkins from the silver holder next to his fridge, and they sat to eat.

The hell if he could think of anything to say. To talk about seeing her perform while she were hungry as she was didn’t sit well with him, and so he said nothing. Did nothing apart from smile at her once or twice, a smile that grew wider when he watched her politely hide a belch of appreciation behind her napkin.

“Excuse me.” Two pretty pink streaks warmed up her mildly tanned features and brought a definition to her sleek cheekbones as she tugged the corners of her mouth.

“Sign o’ goodness.” He said around a swallow. “S’customary back on Shadow. Iff’n you don’t, then it’s seen as you didn’t enjoy your dinner.”

“Well, you are a good cook. Of eggs at least. Still not pancakes.” River said with feigned disappointment.

Mal snapped his fingers and gave wince. He would offer up next time, but there wouldn’t be a next time, would there? After today, he very much doubted he’d ever see her again lest it were via the Cortex or on the circuit if he could find a partner in time, though that were something else he had his doubts pertaining to.

He tried not to watch her omelette go down in size nor her teacup become ever emptier. Useless, of course, tried though he might, and it weren’t long before he got the joyous sight of seeing her dab her mouth clean with her napkin and pop it neatly onto her clean plate.

_Walk. S’what I’ll do. Walk her to the post station. Ain’t too far an’ I can see as she gets there safe. Maybe I get the driver to wait until she gets a boardin’. An’ if not, he’ll be there to bring her back so she ain’t got to hunt around for another night’s lodgin’s. I ain’t havin’ her askin’ to pay double for soup an’ a bread roll._

“I should…”  
  
“Let me get…”

Pink deepened a little into a pale red hue and River sat awkwardly. “You first.”

Mal cleared his throat. “I’ll walk you to the post. Ain’t no troubles.”

“I-I’d like that, thank you. And for everything else.” She finished, her cheeks now a rather fetching shade of rose.

Heat crawled up the nape of his neck and he tried to rub it away, feeling for all the ‘verse like a grade A _buhn dahn_ , and only stood when she did.

“I’ll help clean up. It’s the least I can…”

“No.” Then cursed his abruptness when a flinch crossed her face. Tried to fix it. “I-it’s guests ain’t the ones who do dishes. Ma would have my hide.”

So, it was lame, but he had nothing else to make their situation better, and thankfully she were too big a person, too polite, to counter him in his own home.

“If you’re sure. I’ll get out of your hair now. Thank you. Again.” River nodded and her smile was painful to see.

Though nowhere near, as Mal found out ten minutes later, as painful as watching that pretty lil face smile at him through the window of a chaser, hand pressed all soft-like against the rear window.

Xxxx

River watched ship after ship come and go from the dock cot next to the one she slept in yesterday. Face cupped in her hand and a numb elbow pressed against the rickety, flaking wooden ledge, and sighed.

She didn’t know what to do, she really didn’t, and she wished on every star she had Simon, but he was too protective. Too emotional when it came to her. Especially since he hadn’t been able to let go of the kidnapping. He was four years older than she, so a bit too old to overcome it like herself, she supposed, and while she retained plenty issues about it, she had at least been able to overcome it.

Simon, though. She simply figured his brain worked different. He was sometimes almost Autistic in his ways in that everything was just so, right from where he put things to his daily activities. Her not being there, even for so short a time as a week, must have been awful for him at eleven years old.

_Mother will be with the Diamond Club, Father will be with his investors, and that left her grandmother, Lady Dorothy Brodeur-Tam. I know what grandmother Dorothy would say._ “River? Where are your pearls? And your lipstick, too. Dear, sweet girl. Do go make yourself presentable while I take tea with Peregrine.” _Tea my boot. Like we all don’t know about her 10 o’clock gin. Know about her 1 o’clock gin, too. I’ll wave grandmother._

River rooted about in her kit bag until she had her C-pad in hand and switched on, but paused for thought. If she asked grandmother what to do, then would it be her own decision? Isn’t this why she came to Persephone on her own? To be more independent, chase after her dreams instead of staying within her comfort zone?

Oh sure, her babysitters were hereabouts, but for the first time in a long time, she had a real chance to stand on her own two feet. Make a change in her life instead of the same old, same old.

Mal had openly and honestly apologised to her, to his team, but she wasn’t sure if he had needed to apologise. After all, it wasn’t really River Tam he was insulting. A caricature of River Tam, certainly, though not the River Tam he now knew and maybe even liked a little. He seemed to like her some, anyway. Who made breakfast for folk they didn’t like?

_Malcolm Reynolds didn’t do that because he likes me, he did it because he does what’s right. Decent. Didn’t have to let me, a stranger, take his spare room for shelter, did he? He could have left me at Yancy’s to have my ears butchered by men whose prose would make them number one suspects in a homicide investigation. Now he’s probably sat at home just like I’m sat here. Alone, with no partner. Visions are seldom all they seem._

River glanced to where the chaser was waiting still and her face scrunched up. He’d done that, hadn’t he? Paid for the driver to wait in case she couldn’t get boarding and said for her to be taken straight back to his.

_Decision made._

She wasn’t going to Mal’s, she was going to the Pavilion and she was going to beg and plead, grovel on her knees if she had to, for a second chance. She would go and try out proper, even if Wash and Zoe weren’t there anymore. After all, who could blame them after she ran out with all the gusto of a sugar high child?

River snagged her kit bag and got up, took her name off the passenger list and ran to the chaser.

_Here goes nothing._

“Excuse me. Would you take me to the Pavilion, please? I know Malcolm Reynolds said for you to take me back to his, but if you don’t take me to the rink, then I’ll walk.”

Xxxx

Mal shot the skater, Katie Kostas, a sickly sweet non-smile and waggled his fingers, unable to keep the frustration off his face. Girl reminded him of Inara’s way of skating and he hadn’t realised how so very simple it had been until it came with a different face. Skating with Kostas had been, for lack of a better word, tedious to a point as they ran through all the basics with ease, yet turned footwork into technicals when they should have been more…

Well, he weren’t right sure to own the truth, and it unsettled him a tad. Made him want to think on things that he weren’t too comfortable with quite yet. Like how their lack of Olympic gold hadn’t been as much his fault as he thought. Maybe, just maybe, there were hope to be found in his next audition.

Caught sight of Wash sitting on the other side of the rink and gave a half smile to convey River weren’t here, that she’d left. Probably gone on back home to find herself a fellow skater she felt as though would be able to show her the respect she deserved. It would hurt to see her on the circuit, but there were always one who got away.

The man in question sat straight as coule be, eyes focused on a spot behind him, and spoke into his left shoulder that got a piece of music that surprised the snot out of him, and both eyebrows rose high.

“What in the hell is that man up to?” Nandi muttered his exact sentiments until something made her stop talking and nudge him with her elbow. “Mal.”

Mal’s head swivelled on his neck as he glanced at the door in time to see Rive peeking ever so slightly through the crack.  
  
“Is it okay if I come in?”

He didn’t have a chance to so much as think about processing the fact that she came back, that she were giving him a second chance in spite of the poor first impression he made.

Wash’s loud clap drew his attention. “You’re going to play tag.”

“What?” Petaline gawked, one hand on her stomach.

“Play tag.” Wash repeated like they were all ten kinds of stupid. “They’re going to play tag. Right, Mal?”

“Umm… Can I come in?” River asked again, inching herself more fully into the arena.

He glanced back and forth between choreographer and brunette, only to do a double take. “You still wearing my shirt?” Seeing her in red, with her cheeks puffed up all hopeful-like had that niggling recognition prickling at his brain again, but he brushed it off.

“It’s comfortable!”

Nandi’s stare was colder than the rutting rink. “Why she wearin’ your shirt?”

“It’s a case of nevermind. Yes. Yes, you can come in, darlin’.” He paused and cocked his head to one side, a loose smile playing at his lips. “If I win, do I get my shirt back?”

River set her bag down on the row behind Petaline. “Most tags in four minutes wins the shirt?”

Mal met her steady gaze with his own. “Keep score, Nan. I’mma win. Ladies first.”

He stepped out after her, hand on the base of her spine. Knew just by looking at her that she were _on_ today. First, he wanted to show Nandi and Petaline that arabesque she laid claim to. “Triple axels into arabesque?”

“Everyone gets the jumps out first. Build up to it. Triple salchow, half loop, triple salchow. Three-four twizzles going from forward outside edge and starting on the right. Triple axel arabesque combination in the middle.”

He nodded. It were a good plan. “To finish?”

River’s teeth snared her tongue. “Have to catch me first.”

Mal grinned, and without hesitating, clapped her shoulder. “You’re it.”

He didn’t skate away, he blitzed fast as he could, putting every inch of his long legs to good use and ate up the rink, all the while with the shirt thief hot on his heels. Excitement, actual and whole, set his pulse to thirty miles per hour and it were all he could do to monitor her shadow, see when she were ready to make the…

A hand whacked his ass. “You’re it!”

River dashed back down the way she came, making the turn and gaining the balance needed for her jump combination, and he followed suit. The first triple weren’t in synch of course, and nor were the half loop, but the second triple was on the gorram money.

They landed side-by-side and clear, free legs pulling down on bended knees and they pushed off again, skirting by Nandi and Petaline as they did so.

Mal gave an extra kick and he was close, so goddamned close, he could taste it. Reached out, but the wretch counter turned at the last gorram second. Her thumb hit her nose and fingers wiggled as she glided backwards.

“Neenur! Neenur! Neenur!”

Oh, that was just _low_.

His blades screeched to a halt, face like thunder. “You’re gonna pay an’ make no mistake.”

When he went after her this time, he did it with heart thumping determination and a sensation he’d not felt in years. Left him breathing hard and heavy and wanting to go that bit faster, jump that bit higher. Get the exhilaration that had always seemed just out of reach.

Speaking of reach…

Mal grit his teeth as he reached River’s side and this time, he lead the way into the twizzle sequence. Three rotations on the right foot and four on the left, kept going, kept building that speed. Sweat made his skin damp, cool from the rink’s temperature, and his hair fell slick onto his forehead.

His hand caught her hip just before she got away. “You’re it!”

“Oh, you rat bastard…” She huffed, stumbling as her toepick caught ever so slightly, but she put herself to rights and was back after him like the hounds of hell were on her tail.

She caught his gaze and nodded, arms out for balance as she changed feet, and again passed the lead-in over to him.

Mal spun and pulled himself up into the triple axel, River right there with him, and this time, the timing were nailed. Free legs spun deep and wide into the arabesque, and just as she placed her second blade down, he kept going until his hands locked securely with hers.

“Axel lift?”

“Axel lift… Now.” He went with care, not letting her gasp make him falter. It was her first lift. Weren’t going to be perfect and probably hell on terrifying, but the very fact she attempted it with him meant she trusted him and, well, it set their partnership in stone.

River’s arms shook from the adrenaline, but her grip remained fully locked tight and Mal held her there, skating slow and steady until she got used to it. Only when he was one hundred percent sure and not a minute before did he let one hand go, though he kept it there ready to take hold if it got too much.

It didn’t and Mal kept skating until it was time to set her back down and somehow figure out an end to the game of tag. River gracefully landed in a full and complete leg extension, a ballet move if ever there were one, and up she went _en pointe_ via toepick. Arms went up to her middle and he stopped, fascinated, as ballerina replaced the skater.

The heel of her blade touched down and up River spun on toepick, free leg sweeping out and back behind her. A pirouette lead to a second bouncing of her blade heel and off she went again into that same, strange pirouette of a spin, her whole body perfectly controlled in rhythm and momentum, yet almost fluidic in motion.

_Captivating..._

It were Wash who began the count out loud. “Two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten!”

“Whooo…” Two slender arms began to windmill as she lost her balance and down she went into a sweaty heap on the ice, blades clunked and hands slapped down hard. “Ten _fouettes_ on ice! Write that down. Personal best number one. Ten _fouettes_.”

Mal shook his head as he skated over to help his smiling new partner back to her feet. Wanted to ask why she came back, but didn’t want to tempt fate, either. She saw fit as to give him a second chance? He weren’t gonna let it slip by on account of a question that might not have such a good answer.

“Took quite a tumble there. You good?” He asked instead.

River gave a brief nod and massaged her round lil rear. “Are _we_ good?”

He needed to know why she came back and she needed to know he weren’t gonna be no _feh feh pi goh_. He weren’t a prejudiced man, not really, though it were something he would need to prove in action and not word. And she needed to be a little braver, not such a little mouse who runs off at the first sign of confrontation.

“Truthful? No.” Mal answered, serious. “But we will be. I need to be a bit less of a _hwen dan_ , an’ you need to stand your ground. Think you can do that?”

He must have done something right because his new partner smiled at him. An actual and whole smile that for all the turning worlds in the ‘verse could well thaw the mountains on St. Albans. “I don’t know how. Been sheltered too much. Hidden in an ivory tower.”

_I can see that._

He reached out to take one of them bitty hands of hers and gave it a squeeze. “Maybe we be useful to each other?”

“Partners?” River gripped back.

“Partners.” Mal confirmed, then breathed a sigh of relief and shot a grin at his, no, their people. “Get the contract drawn up. Give her my shirt, even.”

A highly unladylike scoff came from his partner as she skated back over to the boards, wholly oblivious to the fact she’d left their people speechless. “I was keeping it anyway. Looks better on me. Besides. I won.”

He laughed and nodded towards his boots, hands on hips and tapped his blade a time or two. Took off after her. “The hell you did…”

Her screech were music to his ears.


	6. Axel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going forwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Axel jump is the only jump facing forwards, which is one of the reasons why skaters say makes the jump more difficult. Because of the face-forward direction, the Axel jump also comes with an extra half rotation, and so a double Axel has two and a half rotations, with a triple having three and a half. To make it just that bit more complex of a jump, it's a counter-clockwise take-off from the left forward outside edge and landing on the right back outside edge. It can also be performed clockwise.
> 
> The Axel was first performed by skater Axel Paulson way back in 1882, and the first female skater to land a double A (abbreviation) in competition was Carol Heiss. Midori Ito the first female to land a triple in 1989, and Tonya Harding became the first American female figure skater to land it in 1991. Mao Asada became the first female to land two triple As in the same program in 2005. Rena Inoue and John Baldwin Jr were the first pair to land a triple A throw jump in 2006.
> 
> To date, there have only been seven female figure skaters to land a triple A in competition while no skater, male or female, has yet landed a quadruple A. Miki Ando, however, once landed a quad jump in 2002 and remains the only female to have a ratified quad in competition.

_EXTRA! EXTRA!_  
_  
Word has it that the Border World Boy and former double champion, Malcolm REYNOLDS, has found a new partner in River TAM._

_TAM, formerly Prima Ballerina of Osiris City Corps Ballet, is best known for her roles of Princess. Though landing such coveted roles as Cinderella and Odette, TAM (19) is best known for wowing audiences across the ‘Verse for her stunning solos as The Sleeping Beauty. The role of Aurora is one of the most physically demanding, we hear, that only the most athletic of ballerinas are capable of playing._

_We managed to catch Tam’s former partner and premier danseur, Andre SAINT LAURENT (20), whose family can be traced all the way back to Earth-that-was. He tells us why the role of Aurora is so challenging:_

_“The Rose Adagio presents an extremely technical challenge for the dancer and is what marks a great ballerina. The promenades mean the ballerina must hold in an attitude derriere position as she is spun in a circle by four suitors. Think of a figurine in a musical jewellery box. She must perform this with the all the effervescent delight of a young Princess on her sweet sixteen. On top of all this, she must display genuine gratitude for each rose she receives. River is one of the greats, but I’m biase… Oh, hey! Wait. Is this on the Cortex? Hi, ma!”_

_As if it isn’t exciting enough to have Princess Aurora on ice, Hoban WASHBURNE has come out of retirement and is rumoured to be working alongside Petaline BURGESS on the pairs' programs._  
_  
_ What can this partnership mean? Perhaps we will see for ourselves if our Princess will find herself a Prince in Reynolds.

_Neither Reynolds nor Tam were available for comment, so we’ll just have to wait for the press conference in two weeks to hear the formal announcement. To say we’re on the edge of our seats here at EW is an understatement!_

_We did receive a comment from Reynolds former partner, Inara SERRA, who had this to say:_  
_  
_ "I'm very happy to see Mal getting on in the sport. It’s very exciting and I look forward to seeing what Miss Tam brings to the sport."

_Remember, folks! We here at Entertainment News called it first._

Xxxx

“ _Prince an’ Princess_?” Mal uttered, not quite able to believe what he were watching. “We ain’t even done our press conference yet an’ they already got us in all our crownin’ glory. Prince an’ Princess.”

He flipped his C-pad off and pushed it away, one hand scrubbing away at his hair as he looked around his place. It were naked now that he had everything packed up in boxes, ready for the move to Osiris where training would start in preparation for the coming season.

Usually, training wouldn’t start until just after the summer months, but with River and their partnership being so new, they needed all the time in the world to get things right. He’d prefer, out of all the Core planets, to make the move to Ariel, but that had been firmly shut down by River her own self. She never said the why of it, though, and confused and curious as he was, changing places to Osiris weren’t a big deal in the grand scheme of things.

Circus music rang out and he wondered what in the fresh hell he’d be reading about them now.

Morbid curiosity forced Mal into clicking his C-pad on to accept the wave, and relief. So much relief at the sight of River’s face that he knew he were grinning like a village idiot.

_“We made Entertainment Weekly. I’ve never been mentioned on Entertainment Weekly and they called me their Princess?”_

He groaned when amber eyes blinked owlishly. “Yeah, an’ I’m Prince ruttin’ Charmin’. You ain’t got the press in ballet?”

One pretty face shook. _“Prince Desire. Prince Charming is Cinderella. We got critics, not tabloids. What do I do?”_

“Get used to it is what. Ain’t goin’ away, darlin’.” Mal sighed, unable to offer her more than that. “Any word on lodgin’s?”

River nodded. _“My brother and I have found a suitable place within a reasonable distance to my rink. Four bedrooms, two and a half bathrooms, open plan lounge and kitchen. Plus a spare room for me to use for my studio. A high rise.”_

“Sounds mighty close to city life.” The thought made him grimace of being so close to so much hustle and bustle.

_“It is a little close, but it’s more convenient as it’s closest to my rink. And we’ll be in the penthouse apartment, so too high up to be bothered by the cacophonous irritants that make up Capital City’s revellers.”_

Mal struggled to keep his face free of laughter at the sheer distaste on hers. Cacophonous irritants indeed. “What’s the askin’ price?”

_“It’s bought and paid for, so no rentals.”_

He sharp shook his head. “I ain’t havin’ that, darlin’. I ain’t havin’ you…”

 _“You misunderstand, Mal.”_ River cut him off. _“Simon and I are just swapping apartments with Aoife and Mal…”_

“Yeah?” Mal asked automatically.

 _“...achy…”_ Plump lips twisted into a smile that flashed her minor overbite. _“Aoife and_ Malachy _are moving into my apartment, while we take theirs. My current place has three rooms, but one bathroom. So we’re swapping.”_

He blinked. “Right. I knew that. An’ you swear that you ain’t spendin’ your cashy money on this.”

 _“Aside from that which is necessary, no.”_ River paused for a moment. _“I did take the presumption of decorating for you. Painted it myself. Made it nice. Manly.”_

“Darlin’...” Buddha, but he wanted to give her a telling for that, only she had that look in her eye. The big, wide eyed look all full of hope and he ain’t never kicked a puppy in his life. “How manly?”

 _“Wellllll…”_ His partner drawled in that pure Core accent of hers. _“I found a nice chair at a thrift store. All men have a chair. My brother does. Father does, too. You’ll like it. And I don’t often get to make things nice.”_

“A manly chair? That’s a thing I can live with. Ain’t never had a manly chair ‘afore. Wonder why.” Mal rubbed his jaw.

 _“They’re supposed to be gifted. Don’t you know anything? God!”_ Amber eyes rolled for good measure. _“You’re going to take so much looking after.”_

Something about that just made his neck warm up and awkwardly scratched where his skin felt hottest. Cleared his throat in an effort to stop feeling like an idiot. “Right, so as this rink of yours ain’t too far away?”

River nodded. _“Icecapades is a ten minute walk, or five minute hopper ride, but commute on the L-Way is advised. Early birds catching worms.”_

“That don’t sound too much a chore. An’ your brother. He okay with me movin’ in?”

_“Simon works six days a week. Four at St. Lucy’s and two at St. Margaret’s, so he’ll either be there or sleeping. We have to be church mice, though. He’s a trauma surgeon. I could never do what he does. He’s a genius.”_

The pride in her voice were only matched by his confusion. He thought she were a genius with that PhD of hers. “If you got that fancy PhD when you were twelve an’ you’re callin’ your brother a genius...”

Her pretty face burned a bright red and he wondered if he said something wrong again. “Don’t mean to embarrass you.” Mal quickly said.

 _“Oh, I’m not embarrassed. It’s… I-I’m…”_ A little pink tongue swept over her lips. _“I have a slightly higher IQ, but that just means I can understand things quicker. My brother. He can reattach legs and gets hamsters named after him.”_

He figured having a slightly higher IQ were the understatement of the century. It were also powerful clear it were something she weren’t too shiny on discussing, and he let his curiosity go in favour of getting back on track. “So this ‘partment we got. It’s plenty roomy?”

 _"Yes!”_ River replied, relieved enough to return to a more relaxed state. _“There’s even a nice pillow house not far for if you feel the need to engage in sexual congress with Jayne. You’re welcome to host him here, of course. Just thought you might like the pillow house for reasons of your own.”_

Mal went bugeyed. “Why in the rut would I want to boff Jayne gorram Cobb?”

_Oh, the fresh hell. Yancy’s. I’mma rip his fingers off an’ shove ‘em up his nose._

_“You mean you’re not sly and don’t have a fetish for tavern rooms?”_

Fetish? Morbid fascination as to how she came to that conclusion rang strong in his veins, but figured he were better off not asking. The hell but the girl had a smutty mind. “I ain’t sly, darlin’. An’ I ain’t got no fetish for tavern rooms. There were an illegal gamin’ table. Poker. He’s sniffin’ Sixsmith’s rear every chance he gets.”

 _“Ohhhh.”_ Disappointment came out on a pouted sigh and puffed up cheeks. _“I guess this means I’ll have to redecorate. And I made it so pretty, too.”_

“Pretty?” He sputtered as his jaw flapped against his chest. “Manly, you said. I done heard you. Pretty ain’t manly.”

River stuffed both fists into her mouth and doubled over. _“You believed me! Your face.”_

“Ha ha.” Mal glared. Pretty his lily white _pi-gu_. Buddha, but she were right sweet as could be when she were laughing. All rosy cheeks and that smile of hers went from one ear clear to the other.

She were still smiling when she spoke next. “ _Truthful, Malcolm. If it’s not what you’re looking for, I can find something else, but it’s convenient. We’d be mostly out of the way. Security’s already there.”_

There it was again. That word secure. It were in everything she both said and didn’t say.

He wondered if it were on account of herself and suchlike. Put a girl of her talents out into the public as she was, and weren’t no telling how much ugly could be riding on her tail. Made him uneasy. The idea that there could well be somebody in the ‘verse looking to get their hands on her, his partner, who weren’t just a prodigy, but rich.

The ransom would be eye watering to say the very least, and that weren’t taking into account how much a ransom for a young prodigy. If there were one thing the ‘verse didn’t lack, it were hwen dans without a lick a goodness to be found.

_All the things I thought about rich folk on the Core an’ security of them young critters weren’t one of ‘em. Seems to be I’m learnin’ the other side now. My pride ain’t a thing compared to havin’ her feel safe._

He stared at her intently. “Would _you_ feel better if we stayed where you are… An’ don’t be lookin’ away. You ain’t got the reason to be ashamed if you’d feel better bein’ more secure.”

 _“It’s not so much me feeling secure. You know I’m a Ward of the State due to being emancipated. I, um, something happened a long time ago. I was taken away… I was going to tell you. Honest. Didn’t want you to get scared because I’m so troublesome.”_ River’s breathing were careful measured. Deep enough to cause feedback through his pad speaker, her eyes a touch panicked in how they started to dart about here and there.

His stomach knotted and cinched up real tight, dread pulled his heart down into his boots as he regarded her. Couldn’t think about her being subjected to anything so vicious-like. _Not that, please don’t let it be that._ “You weren’t… Nothin’ untoward nor touched in any wrong fashion?”

She shook her head and he exhaled a breath he didn’t know he were holding. That soft, cream honey voice came out a small, almost tiny shell of its normal sweet husk. _“No assault.”_

_My reaction to this here information will set the course for us. Pity ain’t the ways. S’not ’ pity she needs._

Mal took a notion as to brush it off like it weren’t a thing, though the relief were at a level he’d never known could make a heart ache. “So, just a borin’ old kidnappin’, then.”

There were a moment of nothing and then her whole being just lit up like a gorram spark of brightness as to nigh on take his breath away. _“Just a kidnapping? They even had new parents lined up.”_

Honest to turning worlds, stone cold shock zapped his veins at her confession, and he stared, wide eyed his own self. “Where’d they get ‘em from? Folk R Us?”

 _“Build-A-Folk.”_ River said, wholly serious. _“Thirty day money back guarantee, one year manufacturer’s warranty. Terms and conditions apply.”_

Mal bit his knuckle. Tried not to laugh, but the hell if weren’t a challenge. Cleared his throat. “So as I’ll be hostin’ a fellow from Expect-A-Goon. Ain’t a thing, darlin’.”

Her relief was almost tangible and he watched her visibly relax, sighing as her shoulders sagged. Back to the lodgings, he figured, now that the hard part was over for her. “There any good food to be had nearby? You get us some reservations? Could be I take you to dinner on account of makin’ up my room all manly-like.”

_“You get dinner, I get dessert?”_

“Dutch it is.

_“Ja meneer.”_

“Pardon?”

 _“_ Yes sir _in Dutch. Ja mevrouw is_ yes miss _in Dutch.”_

“You speak Dutch? Never mind. Tell me over dinner.” It were clear talking to her were gonna give him headaches twenty ways from Sunday.

 _“Okay.”_ River’s expression fluttered into one he didn’t know, but she looked off screen before he could decipher it. She scowled at somebody and slammed her hand over the speaker a moment, but not before he caught the words dream and boat.

She were all smiles when she returned her attention. _“I have to go now. My brother’s going to buy me lunch at Chance’s. See you in a couple of days?”_

Girl would do anything for a plate of food, wouldn’t she? Mal snorted. “See you in a couple of days, darlin’. An’ don’t be eatin’ that brother of yours into bankruptcy. Mal out.”  
  
He disconnected too quick for her to yell at him and sat back, smiling up at the ceiling. He weren’t right sure what it was about her, but he always felt better after a bit of chit-chat with that girl. She were so different to other womenfolk he’d come across. Weren’t a deceitful bone to her and that minor fibbing about going to lunch had been nothing short of adorable.

Mal sighed.

It were a damned good day to his way of mind.

Xxxx

River glared at her brother, unimpressed with just how hilarious he found her position, and she crossed her arms as she only just resisted the urge to kick him in the shin.

“He could have heard you!” The exclamation burst out in a highly accusing tone and she jabbed her spoon in his direction.

Simon didn’t seem to care how close he was to a sound beating, either, as he simply continued to smile that irritating smile of total joy as he ate his lunch. Lunch not bought from Chance’s, for that matter, because that had been a straight up lie to Mal’s face.

“I’ll bite you.” She threatened.

Her brother spooned more porridge into his mouth and swallowed. “It would be worth the Tetanus.”

Her eyes narrowed into slits. “But you won’t say anything about my poster?”

“Because he won’t see it otherwise.” Simon stated dryly.

“No, he won’t because I’m going to take it down.” River glanced at her Malcolm Reynolds poster that could just be seen on her bedroom wall. It had been up there, strategically out the way of the sun to protect the signature, since she got it from him nine years ago at the Osiris Four World Championships. Something she could in no way whatsoever have Mal ever discovering.

She’d never live it down and especially not after he thought her a fangirl. She was, of course. There were very few skating fans who didn’t love to watch Malcolm Reynolds take the floor. He almost swallowed the place with his presence, his movements strong and sure, his jumps swift and landings clean, and like most, she’d been as surprised as any to see him pair with Serra.

Out of all the female skaters back then, River thought for sure he would have been paired with Greta Haring. Only he had been paired with newcomer Inara Serra from Sihnon, while Greta Haring had been paired with Atherton Wing. Haring had lasted two seasons with Wing before the girl had moved to St. Albans, where she taught skating classes and refused to talk about what happened.

The crushing disappointment River felt back then, watching her very favourite skater throw her incomparable potential to the wind, was still felt keenly inside. She knew, though, that Atherton Wing was not a good man. A good skater, perhaps yes if one’s preference ran to overly slick programs made by an arrogant _joo bah jeh_ , but not a good man.

“Hellooo in there…” Simon’s waving hand knocked her out of her thoughts.

She shook her head free of the fog. “Just thinking about Malcolm.”

“Has he said anything? About his breakup with Serra?”

River shook her head again as she added an extra few slices of strawberry to her bowl of porridge. “He’s not said and I’ve not asked. Grass was greener for Serra, I think.”

Her brother regarded her carefully and with deep concern. “You don’t like him, do you? This Atherton Wing? You haven’t met him, have you? Just your intuition?”

“Not yet and I’ll be sure to have someone with me when the inevitable happens. He’s cloudy, Simon. Static in his soul. Can see it in here.” She tapped her head, then took a deep breath and let go what wasn’t her business. “Malcolm’s said yes to the penthouse. I did tell him I decorated. And maybe we could go to grandmother Dorothy’s estate for...”

“River.” Simon chastised. “Don’t make him uncomfortable.”

“I won’t!” She snapped a bit defensively. “It won’t be inappropriate if you come to grandmother’s, too…” River let her sentence drift off and gave him her very best, most pleading puppy eyes she could manage.

Simon faked a put upon sigh. “If I must…”

River squealed and flung herself at him, bounced porridge lips off his clean shaven cheek in a loud smacking kiss that dropped cereal down onto his shoulder. “You’re a good brother.”

“And you are such a brat.” He grouched and tried to mop up the mess on his freshly laundered waistcoat. He paused, looked at her seriously. “You should give Mal and the others a heads up. About your status.”

What? Did he think she was completely deficient?

“I already did.” She said, and off her brother’s concerned look. “Not _everything_ . God!”

That only made his concern more evident. “You told him what exactly?”

She shrugged, fingers fidgeted with her spoon a moment. “Just the Build-A-Folk and Expect-A-Goon.”

“Build-A-Folk? Forget I asked.” Simon paused in his clean up long enough to look at her funny. She inspected her spoon so she didn’t have to respond to that. Thankfully he didn’t ask further. “I’m on call at Margaret’s, so I won’t be home until tomorrow. You’ll be okay?”

River rolled her eyes. “Be fine. I’ll get supper sent for Trauma.”

Simon nodded. “Sunny’s working, so have it sent from her usual place. I’ll be home by 12pm if all goes well. Don’t forget to have Matilde get clearance for Mal and the others.”

With that, her brother hurried to grab his coat and disappeared, leaving her to clean up their lunch she realised with a scowl. Oh well, she’d get him back at some point.

_I’ll put itchy powder in his socks again._

She giggled and stood, carrying their bowls over to the sink and ran the hot water to give them a good soaking before washing them. Tried to resist going into her bedroom, but couldn’t keep from breaking into a run that took her there in seconds, her door loudly banging off her book unit.

Malcolm Reynolds hung right next to the unit, held forever at sixteen years old in mid-triple axel, and she sat on the edge of her bed, jamming her stuffed panda under her chin as she looked at it.

River took in the background and pinpointed the unmistakable architecture of _Étoile D'or_ ice rink on Ariel. As far as ice rinks were concerned, the _D’or_ was legendary with its intricate detailing that lined the pillars and ceiling. How the large _or rose_ stained glass window turned the white ice surface into a kaleidoscope during autumn.

Skating there for two weeks was vastly different to living there full time, and she would feel too exposed, too open to certain eyes that she sometimes still feared were watching her from the dark places. If she wasn’t such a ‘fraidy cat, though, Mal and she could be practicing every day at _Étoile D'or_. Dancing about in that very kaleidoscope of autumn colours come the seasonal start in October.

Still, it was no matter, and Mal had been… Well, he’d been quite delightful about the whole thing. Even made it seem, made them seem, not so scary. Had she ever ripped it out of _them_ before? No, she didn’t believe she had. Long overdue and maybe she could make a habit of it now.

Mal seemed to be that sort of person, didn’t he? In that he used humour to downplay that which had no business taking up more space than it deserved. So maybe he could help her with that, keep making the dark places not so dark and not so scary.

She looked again at her poster and sighed just a little.

_They captured him perfectly back then. His energy. I did so love to watch him._

His take off was almost vertical in the image, which was a true testament to his strength, and the free expression on his face showed just how athletic, how strong, he was. Then he did have the build for it, didn’t he? The lean figure of a born and bred cowboy that packed strength and confidence.

_How shwai I thought him! Thinks he knows me from ballet. Doesn’t remember I was the half pint ten year old trying to hide the mouthful of penny toffee I stole from Simon. Andre Saint Laurent and now Malcolm Reynolds. Tian shia! I’ve worked for this, haven’t I? All those years and a lot of luck. Second chances, Tam. Good things can come from them._

River laughed behind her panda as she recalled Mal’s struggle to place her. She doubted he would ever recall that moment out of the thousands he’d had with a thousand other ten year olds. Something which went entirely in her favour, she supposed.

_Now how do I bribe fourteen people, including mother and father, to keep their mouths shut?_


	7. Killian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mal lands on Osiris and we meet the ex!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Killian hold is where the male holds his partner's left hand with his left while his left is on her waist with her right hand to cover. This is used for the Waltz step sequence, plus others.
> 
> I have to admit that this seemingly simple hold is one of my favourites as it will show in the footwork just how close the skaters are in their relationship. You can always tell when footwork is perfectly in synch that the pair have worked hard to be where they are and it's always a joy to see a pair nail this hold because it can look so beautiful.

_Oh, my Gods! Oh Buddha! Can’t even see! They’ll think I’m not here!_

River bounced up on her tiptoes in an effort to try and see over the roaring crowd as a hiss came from the bay of the Mark III Explorer. Instead of tall people, all she got were taller people. People in giant hats, giant balloons, and was that a kazoo?

Who in the ‘verse brought a gorram _kazoo_?

“Ship’s descending now.” Andre paused, his softly chiseled features hilariously scrunched up as he stared up at the large gunmetal ship slowly descending.

A wave of dizziness rushed over her as Natalie, her right hand woman, spun her round so fast, the world blurred into one big ball of whoa. Her French accent came out thicker than normal, more smoky. “Chin up, shoulders back, chest out. Perfect. Perfect.”

River brushed the woman off and rolled her eyes. “Malcolm won’t care.”

“No client of _mine_ will ever be seen with less than stellar posture. Now up, back, and out. Your curls are dropping. Nothing we can do about it now. We’ll just have to make do.”

Two fingers began to wind the loosening curls into tighter corkscrews and the threat to her sanity would have continued had Andre not been his beautiful self.

“I got this.” One quick grin later and his Hoban Washburne backpack was pushed squarely between herself and Natalie.

“You got me, too!” River grumbled, one hand over her left eye. “I’m blaming you if it makes the press say I’ve been beaten.”

Andre wasn’t listening, now focused on the crowd as a whole. “I hope to hell the hopper’s ready, Nat. We’re gonna need it. It’s dock to Downside Mal here. Dock to Eastside Wash, too.”

Natalie looked almost insulted. “Incompetence is unbecoming. Refrain.”

The ship was close enough for the landing gear to be lowered, and River’s bravado began to dissipate into a crumbled mess of nerves. “Do I look okay? My curls are dropping. _Natalieee!_ ”

Natalie was right there trying to do as many finger curls as possible, but the thickness of her hair simply refused to take hold and loosened the curls more. “Too thick. Too thick by half. It will have to do. Now, let’s get you behind the line. It’ll be good to show a united front for the people and press. I’ve already talked it through with his PR. Plan is to capitalise on the…”  
  
“Prince and Princess?” River sighed, then nodded. It was as good a plan as any to drum up support and work up the crowd a little. Tease them so to speak.

Andre huffed and looked at her, giddy as a six year old in a candy shop. “You really think Wash’ll sign my stuff?”

“I’m sure he will.” She reassured, then let herself be ushered through the barriers, slipping her heart shaped sunglasses on as she did so.

Mal’s ship hissed and steam came from the internal mechanisms, a loud unlatching of the bay was heard and silence completely descended over the entire crowd. Excitement and hype whispered through the gathering, and she couldn’t keep from getting swept right along with them. It was easy to pretend she was that ten year old fan again, the one waiting and waiting, and then…  
  
_ROAR._

River’s screech went unheard and both hands clamped down over her ears as the decibels went into triple figures. She dared to look at the crowd, seeing a thousand arms all reaching out and waving what appeared to be gifts of everything from muffins right on up to giant stuffed toys.  
  
She gestured to the crowd with a pressed finger to her lips and stealthily creeped up behind Mal. One tap to his right shoulder later and she quickly inched behind him when he looked to his right. Tapped his left shoulder and grinned at the crowd as she slipped to his other side.

_“She’s behind you!”_

A larger hand curled firm around her hand and the whole world spun crazy dizzy for the second time. A spiral of white clouds and blue sky blended into a thousand laughing faces that were all upside down right before she saw her own reflection in the surface of Mal’s aviator sunglasses.

She pushed her heart shaped sunglasses up on top of her head, gaze on the wicked smile that flashed all his teeth.

_“How doth the little crocodile_

_Improve his shining tail_

_And pours the waters of the Nile_

_Over every golden scale!_

_How cheerfully he seems to grin_

_How neatly spreads his claws_

_And welcomes little fishes in_

_With gently smiling jaws!”_

Mal cocked his head as he set her to rights. “Sounds to be Carroll. I’m a Coleridge man myself.”

Coleridge, huh? She knew just the one.

_“Dear native brook! Wild streamlet of the West!_

_How many various-fated years have passed_

_What happy and what mournful hours, since last_

_I skimmed the smooth thin stone along thy breast_

_Numbering its light leaps! Yet so deep impressed_

_Sink the sweet scenes of childhood, that mine eyes_

_I never shut amid the sunny ray.”_

He snapped his fingers. “To The River Otter. Could be we do that one day. Go skimmin’ stones.”

“I’d like that.” Took a minute to savour the scent of sandalwood over a green based fragrance. Like a fire made of spices and wood and sprinkled with early morning mist.

_So_ Malcolm Reynolds.

River glanced all the way up that 6’1 frame until vibrant shades of fuschia filled her vision, bringing forth a very leafy, very familiar aroma that accounted for the green hint to his cologne. Eyes slid shut as she leaned forward, hand careful not to disturb the little bouquet as she inhaled deep and long. Thin petals tickled her nose and chin, but she didn’t care whatsoever.

_Osteospermum Jucundum. The African Daisy from the_ _Asteraceae family._ _I’ve never gotten flowers before. Not outside of performances and family and friends._

“Ma sent me a bunch of seeds a while back.” Mal tugged at her lower lip and the bright flash of a camera went off somewhere to her right. “S’the only flower I can’t seem to kill oomph...”

Xxxx

Inara stared at the Cortex screen, hands numb from the clenching fists that hung loosely by her sides. Her lips pursed ever inwards until the thick and it was all she could do to keep the disgust from pouring out of her mouth and all over the carpet. Luckily being with Mal for ten years had given her plenty of practice at retaining a calm exterior.

Her tongue slid across the waxy thick coat of Heliere’s _Baton Rouge_ lipstick, and Buddha, but she hated him right then.

Disgust and bitterness coiled in equal measure and she clenched her teeth down tight as Mal returned the kiss with an eager slip of tongue. If that wasn’t sickening, then the sweet virgin blush from his newest little groupie certainly was.

Lecturing others from his moral compass before pairing off with River Tam of all people. How like him.

It was pathetic, really.

_“That were some welcome, darlin’.”_

_“These are some flowers. Osteospermum Jucundum. The African Daisy from the_ _Asteraceae family. They’re hardy flowers known for their ability to withstand many ailments. I’ll thank your ma, too.”_

_“Well, don’t be thankin’ her like that!”_

Urgh.

It was just so sickening to watch Mal be such a suck up.

“I thought you would be watching.”

Atherton’s well spoken voice jump started Inara into spinning on her heel, hand to her chest with shock. Didn’t have time to gain control over the resentment clawing at her veins. Only just managed to keep from snapping at who she thought was Sally, the young serving girl who constantly forgot her place in the house. “Atherton! You startled me.”

His handsome face smiled at her and those arms curled around her in a way that tugged her spine against his chest. She sighed, gaze once again on the streamed show. “The flowers were a nice touch don’t you think, _bao bei_? We did expect them to make a play on Tam’s former career as Principal Princess.”

Principal Princess? Yes. She liked that very much.

“As cliche as it is.” Inara ran her hand down the diamond pendant that hung just so between her breasts. The coolness of the stone almost calming in its reminder of the life she now lived. Gestured at the Cortex screen. “It’s true. Wash is coaching them.”  
  
“Even legends have their price. The Principal Princess must have the best.” He shook his head at the image of Hoban Washburne.

_“That’s right, baby! I’m back! And my new little leafies here will be begging for mercy soon. They’ll be competing with each other, but they don’t know it yet so ssh.”_

Of course, she realised with more relief than she would ever admit to. _Of course_ Tam’s family had purchased services from Wash. It was the only explanation. Why else would he be coaching Mal and his inexperienced partner? If it had for actual talent, Wash would simply have approached Tam as a singles skater.

Atherton pulled back to look at her with those slate gray eyes. “You’re not threatened, surely. Not by Reynolds and Tam? One hasn’t a gold to his name and the other a family made up of surgeons and glorified embroiderers?”

Inara rolled her eyes and looked back at the screen in time to see Tam holding the bouquet as a child would her baby doll. “Please. I find the whole thing degrading.”

_“We met through tryouts like all pairs figure skaters. Then he gave me food.”_

Atherton’s bug eyes pulled a rather unladylike noise right out of her nose. “Good grief. She looks like a blushing bride on her wedding night.”

She only just managed to keep the bite out of her voice. “Yes, they are quite a match.”

_“She spoke Dutch an’ that were it.”_

“Speaking of wedding nights…” Atherton’s civilised, mannered tone dropped into something far more appealing. “That medal might not be the only gold coming to you. Have you given any thought to my offer? Or perhaps you need a little persuasion, Miss Serra.”

_“No more questions. Save them for the press conference on Friday. The Prince and Princess need to get right to work.”_

_I’m 25. I’ll be 29 when the next Olympics come around. 33 for the one after that. My joints couldn’t stand another eight years. And with younger skaters coming out all the time, this is my last chance. I’m going to get that gold, the medal and the ring. Whatever it takes._

Strong hands slipped her dress down over her shoulders, and she could hear it now. The audience cheering and applauding as gold sat heavy on her chest, her life set in a sparkling stone on her finger. As she bent over the Cortex screen, full of thrill and man, she imagined Mal could see her now, see her smile and know no little virgin girl could ever compare.

Xxxx

She were all pouty mint ice cream and cookies, could taste it all over her tongue and lips. Couldn’t make out her perfume, though it were something almost green and yet floral. If white came with a scent, then this would be it. Though there were a dirty tang in the middle of all that white that were almost exotic in its sweetness. He’d say gardenias or jasmine, but her perfume weren’t a thing like either of them, and it sure as turning worlds weren’t as sharp as narcissus.

_Nice is what it is._

Breathed that scent in good and proper as he flexed his fingers in them loose waves she wore so pretty-like. Gave her a little tongue his own self, all smart and deep to get a full tasting of that mint and cookies, heard a bitty lil squeak and good. There were a lick of naughtiness buried in there and it were coming out with each push and pull of tongue that were mighty inspiring to his sex drive.

Them full lips of hers were now popping all kindsa creamy sweetness off of his, slowly pulling back with minty lil sips and cookie crumbs as the plastic wrapping to her flowers crinkled in his ear. One hand slipped from the nape of his neck down to his shoulder and wispy lashes tickled and itched at the bridge of his nose.

_She stoppin’. Why she stoppin’? Sure, it would complicate matters a touch, but that don’t mean to say as we can’t work on this here new development. Huh. What was’at?_ _Ung jeong jia ching jien soh. Ruttin’ cameras._

Mal stole another sniff of whatever her perfume were and let his partner escape. Stole her own trick and took a lil nibble of that lower pout. “That were some welcome, darlin’.”

River beamed up at him, heart shaped sunglasses so vibrant against her hair. “These are some flowers. Osteospermum Jucundum. The African Daisy from the Asteraceae family. They’re hardy flowers known for their ability to withstand many ailments. I’ll thank your ma, too.”

His eyes bugged wide. “Well, don’t be thankin’ her like that!”

Mal blinked and his partner’s were replaced by a round piece of black fuzz. He blinked again and the black fuzz spoke with a young female voice that were distinctly Asian.

“Chen Ling reporting for Entertainment Weekly. Is it true Hoban Washburne has come out of retirement to coach you?”

Naturally, he thought, and hooked a thumb in his belt loop as the man hisself all but stuffed his face into the inexpensive camera and showed the ‘verse what he had for breakfast.

He chanced a glance at Zoe who were stood, giggling lil critter in her arms and just watching the fellow like she hadn’t seen him in near gone a decade. A wave of feeling rolled through him as a bit of realisation hit of just how long it had been since he himself had seen Wash at the rink on Persephone.

Mal swallowed and was about to say something when he caught a pair of twinkling amber eyes peeking ever so slightly over the inexpensive microphone. Those very same eyes rolled the slightest amount and something about how she looked right then, with half her face hidden, sparked that niggle of familiarity that kept scratching at his skull ten ways from Sunday.

“That’s right, baby! I’m back! And my new little leafies here will be begging for mercy soon. They’ll be competing with each other, but that’s between you and me so ssh.”

“River, how did you meet Malcolm Reynolds? What made you choose him over your other choices? We know you must have had many.”

River’s voice came from behind the piece of black fuzz. “We met through tryouts like all pairs figure skaters. Then he took pity and gave me food.”

“And Mal. What was it that attracted you to River? What sealed the deal over the thousands of other hopefuls?”

Mal gave a shrug of helplessness that matched his helpless grin. “She spoke Dutch an’ that were it.”

The reporter looked as taken aback as much he had been on hearing it. “Dutch?!”

“ _Ja menrouw.”_ A large grin pulled his lips free and clear from his teeth at the drop of lower jaw from his partner. Just had to give that lower pout a tug. “Means yes miss. Ain’t that right, Princess?”

River weren’t no slouch. _“Ja meneer._ That means yes sir.”

“Do you speak a lot of Dutch?”

“ _Ik ben vloeiend._ That means I’m fluent. Only in modern Dutch and in the Brabarius dialect from the island of Saint Maartines, of course. Much of the dialects from Earth-that-was got lost when colonisation of our solar system first began.”

_Girl’s fluent? That don’t surprise me none._

“And Mal.”

Mal cocked his head at the young reporter so clearly trying to get as much as she could. Took in the inexpensive camera and microphone, offbeat and anime inspired clothing. Decided to give the young girl a fighting chance in the cutthroat world that were journalism. “Yeah?”

“What’s it like being partnered with River Tam?”

“What’s it like?” Well if that weren’t a loaded question, he didn’t know what was. “See right now? We’re new to each other an’ we got plenty o’ hard work to get done, so as all I can say to that question is it’s like learnin’ Dutch. One word at a time, one day at a time. You ask me that very same question come six months time? Natalie or Nandi here’ll sort out an exclusive. How’s that?”

The young reporter didn’t react whatsoever, just sort of stood there with a hole where her mouth were only a moment ago and her eyes weren’t blinking, neither. River, on the other, were staring up at him like he were a big damned hero or something. He weren’t sure what he said, but he’d clear done something right to her way of mind.

Natalie were there before anything else could be asked or said. “No more questions. Save them for the press conference on Friday. The Prince and Princess need to get right to work. Thank you all for coming. The C-site goes live tomorrow. Please share your images with us and we hope to see you soon.”

Mal snagged his partner’s left hand with his left, his right kept tight around her waist as they were hurriedly bustled to the waiting hopper. Glanced at River to see her still looking at him with them big doe eyes and apple blush cheeks, the daisies kept safe and violet hearts on top of her head.

He inwardly smirked.

_Girl_ so _wants to kiss me again._

“My perfume.” Said she as he helped her into the hopper and stole a look at that lil round rear while he were at it. “Is tuberose.

His head went to one side, eyebrows knitted together and he looked at her askance.

_How in the fresh hell she know I were thinkin’ on that?_


	8. Kiss and Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hot cocoa for breakfast and a little Getting To Know You.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to say a huge, huge THANK YOU to Garnigal, Casedeputy, Brnt0fferings, and everyone who has left me kudos and signed to follow my piece of lunacy! I love reading comments, so please keep leaving contributions in the little box. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint and especially as it's the last filler chapter before their hard work begins and they're made to really open up to each other.
> 
> Kiss and Cry is the box area next to the rink where figure skaters go to wait on their scores.
> 
> One of my current favourite skaters to watch in K&C is Jason Brown. He has such an amazing energy that you can't help but smile right along with him. If you haven't already seen it, go watch his Riverdance on Youtube. I dare you not to be impressed. I double dare you!

Title: **Kiss and Cry**  
Author: Me!  
Disclaimer: I only own the OCs and the ridiculous theme for Jayne's hockey team, the Reavers.  
Distribution: Ask and thou shalt receive.  


Xxxx

 

Mal were wide awake when he heard bubbling of sorts kick in and sat up, hands scrubbing his hair before he got out of bed and into a pair of sweats. May as well go join her since jet lag were keeping him from his beauty sleep.

Listened to her talk to herself a moment as the smell of hot chocolate wafted down to his room, and smiled. This weren’t the inexpensive to be found on post stations and sky plexes, but the good stuff. The high grade, high cocoa content, class A drug from the sunny shores way out on Miranda. The beans that grew only once a year when the planet passed in its elliptical orbit that turned the place into a gorram nudist colony for three months.

_All the things a rich society girl could have as her indulgence, from fancy shoes to one of them hyper crafts like the Azure Blu, an’ she chooses pricey cocoa powder. She doin’ a leg extension? She is! Girl’s doin’ a leg extension so as she can reach the sugar without movin’ an inch._

Had to bite his knuckle to keep from cracking and giving away his stealthy spying. She were a creature, weren’t she? Not quite right. She had this crazy about her that he weren’t sure she were aware of, but it were there. Just this oddness, almost kooky sort of manner that made her gaze near vacant, like she weren’t quite on the same page. It were as intriguing as puzzling and he couldn’t help the smile as he watched her go about her business.

_Girl’s a fan. Can spot ‘em a mile away. Bet she’s been to competitions. Could be why she’s so familiar. Wouldn’t that be somethin’? Bet she got recordin’s an’ merchandise tucked away someplace hidden. Got a brother, ain’t she? Could be I get him on side with a lil bribery. See if I can get him as to rat his sister out._

“Your stealth needs work.”

“Best not give up my day job.” Mal snapped his fingers and went to go park his rear on one of them high stools at the counter. Made of point of leaning over to inhale the steam rising from her mug of hot chocolate. “Smells good. Plenty to go around?”

River shot him a look that had laughter bubbling in his chest. “We _always_ have cocoa. Here.”

Weren’t a surprise to see a mug pushed in front of him and he eagerly wrapped his hands all around the ceramic, feeling the warmth tickle his fingers. Delicious hot milk all frothy thick and that unique scent floating up his nose. How long had it been since he last indulged in a bit of this? Too damned long, it seemed.

Took a little sip, blew on it, and it went down like a gorram _dream_. Yeah, he’d have to work it off, but it were worth every extra calorie that were for sure. Being her partner came with some mighty fine perks. “Only the best o’ women serve their partners a cup o’ crack first thing.”

Amber eyes sparkled as she walked to hop up onto the stool next to his. “Good?”

“S’the business is what it is.” Mal paused on noticing ten sparkly blue tipped toes at the end of two bare feet. Patted his lap, only to jump out of his skin at first touch. He rubbed one foot, then the other. “Ain’t you heard o’ socks or slippers?”

“So _confining_.”

“An’ icy. Don’t forget icy.”

“I did walk barefoot across a rink once.”

“Whyever?”

River shrugged as she sipped her cocoa. “To see what it felt like.”

“Were you drunk?”

“Just curious.”

“Well, that makes a lick o’ sense.” Sort of. He shook it off. “You talked to Wash or Zoe since they left us to go settle in?”

“No. You?”

Mal draped his forearm over both her feet and felt her toes curl into the soft fabric of his sweats. Smiled a tad at that. “That is one odd fellow. Tag, darlin’. Four minutes worth o’ tag to be played. Record scores or spectacular failin’. One or t’other is like to see us in the books.”

“We need to make it exciting. I say we dress up as Tick and Tock the Talking Clocks.” She took another sip. “Nobody will know it’s us under the masks.”

He couldn’t help the chuckle if he tried. “Then we’d have a followin’ of joyous lil critters. Could be we think on dress up. S’for them, ain’t it? Critters don’t as pay much notice to technicals.”

Thought crossed his partner’s pretty face a moment. “I could design us something. Cartoon cowboy and cowgirl. I know fixed accessories were allowed in last year’s Gala. Saw you here on Osiris.”

This was the lead in he needed. “Did you, now?”

River just smiled a little and the hell if that didn’t stir his suspicions. “Seen you lots of times. Sat in seat six of row fourteen when I was Cinderella. You snored through the entire last act. I was so _disappointed_.”

“The hell I did!” Mal denied, sitting up rod straight. “I were awake the… That just ain’t nice.”

Her laughter rang out, voice still husky from sleep. “I saw you in Cirque, of course. Some other performances. Olympics were always on the wrong days.”

He snorted. “Could be you should wave ‘em about that.”

“I did. They said no.” Button nose went up into the air.

Had to cough in order to hide his own laughter. Of course she waved him, spoilt lil wretch that she so clearly were. “S’been a nag since we met on Persephone. Where I know you from. Now I know.”

“Now you know.” A light flush of pink swept over her cheeks. Fibbing little wench tried to hide it behind her mug, but he saw it plain as day.

“Wonder what our long program will be.” Mal rubbed her coldest foot a bit more. “Maybe we play hide an’ go seek. Bulldog, even.”

River looked wholly baffled. “Bulldog?”

His mug paused halfway to his mouth as he stared at her. “You ain’t never played Bulldog?”

She shook her head.

“S’where you got the dog catcher in between two rows o’ folk, an’ the folk gotta reach t’other side without bein’ caught.”

“Ever play Geometron?”

Mal shook his head this time. “I can’t say I have, no.”

River sat up straight. “Level one through ten gives you two minutes on the clock to solve the geometric puzzle. Levels eleven to twenty gives you one minute fifty seconds. Then one minute forty, thirty. You get bonus points for finishing the puzzle using the minimum amount of moves.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “What level you get to?”

“Created Geometron 2 and 3. Can still be found on the Cortex.”

Couldn’t help himself and widened his eyes in a poor imitation of her. “You are _so_ _smart_.”

She weren’t to be outdone. “An’ you ain’t.” Gave a tongue pulling for good measure.

“Trip over that if you ain’t careful.” All ten toes pushed hard as they could against his thigh. They were warm now as opposed to halfway to frostbite, so that were something at least. Tugged on her big toe and watched the sparkles catch the light to shine a rainbow of colours. Pretty, he thought offhand. Real pretty. Suited her skin just nice. “Ain’t you got a brother hereabouts?”

A great big, heaving sigh was her first response. “Work, work, work. I know he’s important and does important things, but…”

Mal ducked his head to remain in her line of sight. “You get a mite worrisome, don’t you?”

River nodded, plump lips contorted and twisted halfway to her left ear. “I don’t mean to nag. He was supposed to be home fourteen hours ago. Not had a wave. He’ll sleep in the on-call room and shower in Decontamination. Brings work home, too. I read and I see and I help. All the time I try to help.”

“Could be he has his reasons, River darlin’.”

“I know. Just don’t want to see him burn out like others do because they work too much.” She gave another sigh. Smiled a second later. “It’s nice. Having someone to talk to.”

“That it is.” Mal took a drink of hot chocolate. “He’s a trauma surgeon, you said. Why ain’t you a fine doctor? Seen as you’re ten kindsa smart.”

“I’d be a lawsuit waiting to happen.” The worry faded into chuckles. “It’s my brain. Focus is good during physical activities, such as ballet or skating, but mental activities? I lose focus. Tried to improve. Doesn’t work. Like my brain knows it can do more than one thing, so it does.”

“Got a mind of its own, huh? See what I did there?” Her disgust were comedy gold. So expressive were she, that even as one look at her made his face crack. “Thank you, by the way. My bedroom. S’nice. Manly. Nan said you were an artist.”

“Yeah?” Toes again curled into the soft fabric of his sweat pants. “Simon’s next. Don’t know what to do with mine yet. My belongings are still downstairs. Aoife and Mal…”  
  
“Yeah?”

“...Achy. _Malachy_ will be away this next week, so I have to make time to get everything tomorrow or overmorrow.”

Mal gestured to the open door to the lit room next to his. “You ask nice an’ maybe I put my manliness to good use.” Flexed for the hell of it and yep, there came the expressiveness some more. Had to force his lips into a straight line as girlfolk got tetchy when they were laughed at.

“You’re not funny, Malcolm.” River scowled right before them amber eyes of hers took on an altogether different sort of shine. One that were wicked and a little bit mean and so very, very saucy. She seemed to think better of speaking whatever she were going to say.

There were quite a minx in her, weren’t there? Saucy one at that, only she weren’t quite ready to leave her shell yet.

_Six months. S’what I give her. Six months an’ she’ll be snarkin’ like there ain’t no tomorrow. Or overmorrow. Whatever the fresh hell overmorrow is._

“It’s the day after tomorrow.” She said absently as she sipped on her cocoa. Blinked, and were smiling like she hadn’t just been thinking on all manner of wickedness. “Oh, I forgot to ask. Do you want any newspapers or ‘zines delivered or do you use your C-pad? The building gets deliveries for the common room on the fifth floor.”

Mal shook his head. Had she just answered a question he didn’t ask with words? Nah. Just his mind playing tricks is all. “Eques an’ Out O’ Doors. You?”

That lower lip got sucked between her teeth and he tugged it right back to safety. “Financials, tradings, OPA, OMA, ASC, and Dimensional. And Blu Races, of course. There’s one every third Friday of the month at the City’s space track if you want to go.”

This time, it were him to give a sigh as he regarded her quietly for a spell, again thrown for a loop. She were so unique. He’d bet his gorram ranch she were the smartest person in the ‘verse. And even if that weren’t fact, didn’t make it less true for him. She were the smartest person and that were final.

River tried to hide another blush with her mug, but he caught it again, and again, it felt like girl had read his mind. Once were a coincidence, twice and thrice were uncanny. Four, five, six times? Weren’t no coincidence.

_Maybe girl’s one o’ them trickery folk? Mentalists, they call ‘em. Only that don’t make no sense. I ain’t never seen a mentalist pluck somethin’ right out of a brain ‘afore, an’ River? S’like she does that when she’s distracted. Could be I test her, see if I’m right. An’ if I am an’ she’s a reader like Ol’ Agnes Barlow, then I ain’t never gonna get it out o’ her, am I? ‘Bout where I know her from cos she’ll know what I’m tryin’ to do an’ she’ll fib just to throw me off cos she don’t want me to know. Girl’s slippery as they come._

Mal set his own mug down and wrapped both hands around her left foot, pushed both thumbs into the ball. Grinned and tickled a trail from toes to ankle, a featherlight touch that increased in pressure and heat and earned himself a very feminine groan. She were getting plenty distracted here, so as he just had to wait for the right moment to think of something.

Really put some effort into now. Thumbs parallel and rubbed up and hard, spread her toes out and noticed they were quite lengthy digits. Could be like fingers, all painted so pretty blue. Noticed there were no blister marks on her ankles or toes.

_What, she know somethin’ I don’t?_

The second that question flashed in his brainpan, he glanced at her quick sharp and caught it. A teeny, tiny little flicker of lip. Might not be much in the grand scheme of things, but it were a sound piece of evidence to him that she were a reader like that crotchety old hag back on Shadow.

Didn’t say anything and instead kept up the good work, treating her foot to the wonders of a massage before breakfast.

“This is going in the contract.” River took a mile and pushed her neglected foot into his hands, eyelids still closed and relishing in the attention he lavished on her in general. Girl was such an opportunist and just happened so was he.

_An’ what do I get?_

“A gold star.”

Mal smirked, sat back, and watched a pair of amber eyes snap wide open and full of the realisation that she’d fallen into a trap all of her own distracted making.

Xxxx

So, she was sulking.

She had every right to sulk and she was going to sulk until a time of her choosing. He pulled a mean trick on her, what with the distracting foot care and his masculine wiles, and she fell for it hook, line, and sinker. Now he was sat, chuckling away to himself and looking ever so pleased that he managed to outwit her.

Mal chuckled again and River glared. “You are so _mean_.”

“Tell me.” Those hands of his lay loose, relaxed over her feet, keeping them nice and warm. “S’it intuition or…”

“Simon says I was born with a third eye. Hates it when I can tell which girls he likes.” She shrugged, the need to sulk forever fast fading in face of his curiosity. “There are twenty seven on the register. Different talents, they call it. Murray helps make calendars and works for Weiss Timekeeping. Ask him what day Wednesday will be in thirty years time and he can tell you. Ivy, she lives on the second floor here, works for the ‘Verse Wide Animal Protection. She can talk to them. It’s so funny watching her talk to Evan’s snakes. They go right up to her, sniffling and bobbing their heads… What?”

Her partner didn’t look so good all of a sudden. “Snakes?”

River nodded happily. “Uh-huh. Why Evan has the basement apartment. He makes ten percent of the City’s supply of antivenom. You do know we have eighteen species of venomous snakes on Osiris, right? Excessive use of technology and high rises have made Capital City a perfect habitat for the urban Mamba. Lots of small places to hide next to warm power generators. Not aggressive, though. Unless you tread on them and then they chase you away.”

Mal blinked and his chin jerked forwards. “Come again?”

“Eighteen species of venomous snake.” She repeated. “We have the Dendroaspis Jamesoni, the Dendroaspis Polylepis, Dendroaspis Angusticeps, which are all Mambas and part of the Elapidae family. The rest are urban Viperidae, like the Bothrops. Have to learn them so you can be careful. It’s important. I don’t want you be bitten.”

He was silent and wide eyed for a lengthy spell before he blinked. Anxiety rolled through his veins, caused his heart to race and fear. “Right. Snakes. We’ll leave them be. An’ you? What’s your intuitive talent, darlin’? Terrifyin’ innocent grown men into nightmares?”

Her lips slowly lifted until all her teeth were on show. If he was joking about it, then he was good to go. If a little nervous. “Psychic to some, witch to others. I work with law enforcement sometimes. Missing persons, mostly. Sometimes homicides if Harry can’t be reached.”

The change in topic put him at ease relatively quick, could feel the relief halt the rush of adrenalin in his veins. Only he was looking at her now, different to before, but not the funny look most people gave her. He wanted to know something. She could always tell.

River bit her lip as she waited for him to speak. Rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t work like that, Malcolm. I’m not a radio.”

Mal blinked and opened his mouth, only to close it a second later. Smiled sheepishly. “You can, though.”

“The mind reading happens when I’m distracted. When I get floaty warm. Like before.”

_Oh gods, no._

“Floaty warm, huh?” It took mere moments for the entire room to fill with ego and testosterone, all pheromones and masculinity as his being inflated to twice the normal size. Buddha’s gift to the ‘verse, complete with puffed chest and flexing pectorals, grin to match.

“I knew it!” He blew on his nails and rubbed them shiny. Beamed. “You had a lil crush on me, now, didn’t you? How old? I’m guessin’ as you were a young ‘un. Ten, maybe? Eleven…Wait a minute…”

She squeezed her eyes tight shut. If she couldn’t see him, he couldn’t see her. It was the rule. Everybody knew it was the rule. Had to bite back a squeal when she felt him lean close enough for cocoa breath to warm her cheek, his presence right there. Could feel him, inside and out, his nose on hers, nudging up and over, teasing her, luring her mouth open with a single brush of lips.

Cool air replaced hot, and the lack of everything had her eyes blinking wide in time to see him sitting back, arms folded and smug satisfaction all across his unfairly handsome face. Wanted to kick him in the shin. Or head. Or somewhere that would hurt a lot.

River went for his gut and jabbed his navel with her toes. Twice. “It’s not funny. You think it is, but it isn’t.”

Mal wasn’t having any of it. “Where is it, witch?”

“Where’s what?” River uttered, sulking.

“Your _Malcolm Reynolds_ merch. I bet you got one of them large notebooks, didn’t you? Filled it with bitty hearts an’ kisses. Betcha played that game, even. Where you add up the letters.”

“Stop it!”

Male laughter rang out. “C’mon, darlin’. Show me. I’ll get you a personalised goody bag. An’ pen. I know! How ‘bout a keycard holder? Have one made _special_. Could read River Reynolds.”

“Stop it!” Tried to snatched her feet away in a huff, only he kept tight hold.

“Maybe you confess an’ I let go. S’fair deal from where I’m sittin’.” He was so ruttin’ pleased with himself. “Out with it, Witch.”

Pinned him with a glare even as a deep blush burned its way from neck to hairline. Watched and waited for his memory to recall.

She could see it on his face just how much this was getting on his nerves, that it was so close and so far away at the same time. The angry frustration eating away at his insides went a little way to smoothing her ruffled feathers. The fact he was amusing and helped make short work of her embarrassment. Out of all his expressions, though, the thin line of white lips was something she would take to the grave.

“Want a clue?” She offered helpfully as hands gripped her feet over and over as he rocked on his stool, desperate. She took pity, throwing her partner a bone in the form of replicating exactly how she looked almost a whole decade ago when they met on Ariel.

River pulled her hair back with one hand, then used the other to hide puffed cheeks and mouth as she peered at him through her eyelashes. Angelic, innocent, and so wholly not to blame for Simon’s disappearing Toffoos.

Mal cracked in spectacular fashion, cussing out a storm on a single breath. “ _Tian xia suo you de ren dou gai si!_   _Go hwong tong, yao nu!_  Just ruttin’ tell me!”

The sound of the door beeping and hissing open drowned out her laughter, while the sight of her brother brought her laughter to slow and grinding halt. He stood there, eyes narrowed, and a smile that curled up and up and up into wicked as he glanced between her and her partner. Moved slowly, calmly, showed a feigned level of indifference that replaced her blood with liquid nitrogen.

_Oh no. Oh stars, no. One thing for Mal to remember me, but another to remember the whole thing. Simon can’t tattle on me. I’m his sister. He can’t._

“So this is what it feels like to come home to silence. I did wonder.” Briefcase laid down gently and coat shrugged off, hung up neatly next to Mal’s brown trench coat. “You’ll forgive my not being present to welcome you. Simon.”

“No, Simon! Noomph!” Mal had his clamped over her mouth quicker than she could blink. Panic stricken and just about dying of the embarrassment hurtling her way at the speed of light, River pulled and yanked and tugged at that hand unsuccessfully.

“Hush now, darlin’. Us menfolk are havin’ us a chit chat.” He said, all shiny like. “Mal. You got somethin’ of use to me?”

Oh Buddha, no. They didn’t have to be _friends_.

River wildly shook her head, only Mal moved to stand behind her for a better hold on her.

“Well, there was the time she…”

Simon was _dead meat._


	9. Centered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bringing the plot into existence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On ice, Centered is the opposite of travelling, so it's a spin that stays in one place.
> 
> Massive THANK YOU to Sue for saying she's loving reading this story of mine, and yet again thanking Garnigal Brnt0fferings, Casedeputy, the five Kudos and two followers. Keep dropping those contributions in the little box.
> 
> Love, J *kiss kiss, sideways smiley face, giant heart*

Chapter 9: Centered  
Author: Me!  
Disclaimer: I only own the original characters and the idiotic theme for the Reavers Olympic hockey squad.  
Distribution: Ask and you may have.  
Notes: Let's get a start on end game, shall we?!  
  
Xxxx

 

Having attended school from the ages four through to seventeen, studying until her eyes bled, scraping the required grades needed for Londinium’s HaCAd. A course that saw no social life for a skull splitting five years worth of nightmares inside a fully active training hotel. Graduating at the ripe old age of 22 going on 50, and landing a receptionist’s job at the posh Plaza.

Fifteen years later and here she was, general manager with her own assistant and tea machine in her own office. Her snazzy knock off designer suit replaced with her own chamber maid's uniform, complete with apron and cart loaded down with everything necessary to keep room 819 shipshape.

Janet Wynne-Harding hated room 819, but so did the rest of the staff, and following six years of an excessively high chambermaid turnover, something had to be done. So here she was, after all those years of stuffing her head with the knowledge of how to run an internationally famous hotel, snapping on a pair of bloody Marigolds and about to get her hands dirty.

Bricking it up would just bring more attention to the room and the hotel. Do wonders for profits, of course, but at the price of having a bunch of people ghosting hunting on the eighth floor. Publicity back then had been a solid nightmare, for fuck’s sake. Workers had to use the entrances and elevators reserved for workman moving shit in and out, which had put a costly delay on a fair few things going on back then. The hotel, and more importantly, she didn’t need a bunch of bastard ghouls kicking about the place.

Yeah, so the circumstances were suspicious. Young skater disappears without a bloody trace, along with several items of clothes, her passport, and travel visa. No paper trail, no sign of her down at the Village, nothing beyond what had been caught on hotel surveillance. Short of that young lass walking through the lobby and leaving the elevator on the eighth floor, surveillance had less than jack shit.

Didn’t mean half the ‘verse had to come camp out on the eighth floor. They did, of course, and all in the hopes one of them would find some hidden clue like they were Scooby fucking Doo. Because they were going to find a hair that five high grade forensic teams had missed.

If somebody asked her what happened, she’d say that lass was simply sick to the back teeth of life and decided to leg it fast as possible. Probably set up shop somewhere north of the border where it was almost impossible to track down. North Londinium was the infamous hiding hole for people to disappear. Overcrowding, blackout zones right up the creek, and whatnot.

Something would have been found if that young lass had been murdered, surely. Or one of the chambermaids who had to put the room to rights after the Feds got done with it. Or herself, come to think of it, given how she was the cleaner for 819 since the only other fuckers to come in here were the ghouls, and they never lasted long.

Was always a cracking time making bets on how long the poor twats would last. Nobody mentioned that to head office, though. Grady Hunter the Millionth would piss his twisted y-fronts if he thought they let a bunch of gadgeys and gannies in his high price resort with second hand Logique cameras.

Janet gave serious thought to having that conversation.

_Aye, pal. Ah’s just taking this reservation for a crowd of five to gan on into room 819. Nowt interesting, just sniffing about for a lost pair of knickers to implicate that rich gadgey. Which rich gadgey? I divvint nah, man._

Paused again.

_Ah could set the fucker on fire, me. Hoy a bit of petrol arl ower the show and get few of the lasses to bring the Wotsits while Ah light the match. Be a canny neet that would. Probably get mesel’ arrested, though. Arlways a fucking wank stain on a good idea._

Janet slipped the keycard out of her apron pocket and slid it through the scanner, her other hand slamming against the button to keep the door wide open and ready. Looked inside and hated the fact there was nothing, nobody, there. Never was, of course. Always bloody empty and stone cold bloody silent, which was the worst out the lot, really.

The silence.

It was thick sort of silence that seemed to envelope the room as a whole, and made it impossible to hear herself think over the absolute nothing in here. Since nobody stayed in here, the fridge had been switched off, so there wasn’t even a quiet hum on that score. And the emptiness…

Christ almighty how, but the emptiness was tangible in here. No lingering perfume or cologne, no residue from tea and coffee, never anything to pick up like a stray towel and never a bed to be made. It felt empty, almost like a newly built house, and if she stood perfectly still, she swore she could see things moving.

Never directly, of course, only ever out the corner of her eye. A shadow where there shouldn’t be one, the strange knocking coming from inside the bathroom. The complete lack of life in this room royally put the shits up her and Janet shuddered as she eyed the thermostat.

Perfect temperature and yet the chill was everywhere, coming out of the walls themselves, an acid rain on her skin that left goosebumps and raised hair along both arms. “Bugger all here, man. Howeh.” Her Northern accent came out strong as she clicked the vacuum into the socket.

A quick whip round with this, light dusting of the units, and then go have a shot or two of Vodka as she thought about petitioning Grady Hunter the Seventy Thousandth to demolish rooms 818, 819, and 820 just to be on the safe side.

The repetitive motions of the mundane relaxed the anxiety and made it much easier to breath, as the high strung noise of the vacuum provided a comforting sound against the backdrop of lifeless silence. Relaxed into the routine of daily housework and it was so easy to pretend she was at her apartment in the snazzy New Camden district in the City.

Janet caught a glimpse of her own reflection in the sun shaped mirror above the stereo. Looked over her shoulder at the closed curtains and back again, shaking her head. Nothing there as always and she sighed, turned the vacuum down towards the rug and stopped, a frown on her face as her eyes landed on the bathroom door handle.

Watched the fucking thing turn and jiggle, turn and jiggle, then stop like it never happened. Clicked the vacuum off and walked closer, and bloody hell, but it didn’t move. Stayed perfectly still.

Swallowed and grabbed the cleaner’s plug out of the socket, pushed the button to retract the cord, and there it was again. That click-click-click of a round handle. Stopped before she could look and she worked faster, shaking hands sprayed furniture polish on the bookcase and stereo lid, dust rag rubbed quick, but not quick enough.

The huge television clicked on.

Janet stood, frozen and staring at herself in the mirror, unable to do anything other than hope to fuck her legs worked, and she watched the reflection of the news. The channel changed once, twice, three times, all in succession before it settled on the retro cartoon channel.

Had that been all, she would simply have switched it back off and put it down to a power surge or some other logical shite like that, but no. Not in this bastard room. The curtains didn’t just move, either. Oh no. The twats were yanked back and bright sunlight poured in from outside, the motion kicked up dust from the windowsill and there was something in the dust.

A formless apparition, with arms that moved and evaporated, a gaping hole that turned into a screaming mouth for a single split second, pulling further and further back until the hole devoured the head. The dust drifted and so too did Janet Wynne-Harding.

She drifted so fast, she was in the hotel bar inside of a full minute complete.

She fucking _hated_ room 819.

Xxxx

“Don’t go. My sleeve just caught the curtain pull. I’m ever so sorry…”

Changying Zhou watched the woman run away and sat on the bed, sighing as she played with the light cord.

Being invisible was a terribly frustrating thing, really, and sometimes she wondered if she was dead, not invisible. But if she was dead, then why was she here and not in a graveyard? And if she was dead, then why could people see her sometimes? How could she turn the TV on to watch the daytime cartoons and take showers?

She couldn’t do any of those things if she was dead, now, could she? So really, she had to be invisible. It was the only explanation, really. Not that it was a terrible thing to be invisible here. She had an ever so lovely view of the gardens outside and she did so enjoy watching the bluebells come to bloom. Why, the fragrance was ever so nice and it always blew in through the air vent and she could sit for such a long time, just breathing it in and making pretend she was outside.

That was the one frustrating thing about being invisible. She couldn’t quite seem to be able to leave the hotel room. That’s not to say she wasn’t an ungrateful sort, of course, because she was very grateful for what she had. Only she couldn’t quite remember what it was she had. Except for the pay-per-view movie channel that they never asked her to pay for, which she found ever so kind of them and she did so wish to give them something nice in exchange.

That’s why she helped the woman who came to clean the room. She liked doing that. Helping keep things neat and tidy, and really. Being invisible allowed her to do many things in here. She used to sweep the cobwebs above the closet until she realised it was also a home and she felt ever so guilty, that she never did it again. Now there were five little money spiders and she did so enjoy the company.

The spiders never ran away, not like the woman who came to clean, but she understood, really she did. Invisible people would be ever so scary.

Changying Zhou sat straight as her often pondered question yet again swept through her mind.

Maybe, just maybe, there had been a spill or something, some kind of chemical maybe that got into the air vents and she’d sucked in lungfuls and that turned her invisible. Or maybe…

Her gaze darted around the room suspiciously.

The _room_ turned her invisible.

That would explain why people kept running out of it so fast and nobody seemed to like it in here, anyway, so what if the room was magic and turned her invisible? But if the room was a scary magic room, then why did so many people come stay in here?

Unless they were trying to get the magic for themselves and become invisible, too. Being invisible would let a person do any amounts of things, really. Why, they could walk right into any store and just pick things up and walk right back out again, with nobody any the wiser. Unless the items they picked up didn’t become invisible right along with them and they would be caught and prosecuted for theft.

Changying Zhou muffled a little giggle as she made sure nobody was around to hear her naughty confession.

Why, if she could get out of the room, she would try to steal something. Only something small, though. Perhaps a pen or a toy plane. Just to see if it did become invisible. And she would put it back right away because stealing was just terrible, really.

She was proud to say she never stole. Not even from the little mini-fridge, though she did find herself with quite a need for a cocktail now and then. Alas, invisible people didn’t seem to get thirsty. Or even hungry, for that matter. Though not needing the bathroom was a bit of bonus, especially if she was busy trying to help the woman who came to clean.

That just made the woman run away, though. Especially if she accidentally made the door open and shut, which was totally by accident, really it was. Her sleeve seemed to catch on lots of things now that she thought about it. Why, just last week she was rinsing the bath tub and her sleeve snagged on the shower dial.

The poor woman ran away then, too. Oh, but she had tried to chase after the woman to apologise for scaring her, but it was no use, really. Not when the woman could run so fast.

She would apologise next time. She always apologised, for she didn’t mean to be so mean, really. It was just her sleeve that kept snagging on things and being invisible meant she couldn’t change her clothes. It was a terrible shame, really. She always had such pretty clothes and shoes. Couldn’t remember them, not really, but she liked to think she had pretty clothes and shoes.

Changying Zhou looked out the window and sighed.

As grateful as she was to have such a nice place to live, it would be terribly nice to be visible again and go outside into the sunshine, even just for a little while. She would pick a bluebell, she thought. Just a little one and put it into a little pot so she could grow one of her very own. She would be ever so quick, too. So quick she would be that the room wouldn’t even know she was gone.

She looked at the door and thought she might as well close it as the woman wouldn’t come back for quite some time. And that was another confusing thing, really.

Time seemed to not move in here, even though it moved ever so fast outside. There was a terribly large building of sort that she could see from the window and it started so small. Not that she was ungrateful, of course, for she did so enjoy watching it be built until it touched the very blue sky.

She wondered what it would be to be at the very top of that building and looking over the whole of…

Changying Zhou stopped.

Try as she might, she simply could not recall her whereabouts. It was the funniest thing, really. To know this and that, but not to know the date or time, if she had pretty clothes or if she had dressed terribly drab. That wasn’t to say those who dressed so thought of it as drab, for it was all personal, wasn’t it?

Oh well.

It was time to close the curtains before looking outside made her too sad.

She glanced at the bathroom.

Bad things happened when she got sad.


	10. Mirror Skating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let the training commence!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mirror skating is when two skaters mirror each other and is the opposite of unison skating.
> 
> Great mirror skating, in my opinion, is the mark of a true great pairs team. Not only do they need to know how the other moves, but also know their partner inside and out. Because a lot of mirrored movements happen when neither skater can see the other, such as while performing spins for example, a pairs team must have a solid foundation in order to really make mirror skating something special. There's nothing more powerful than seeing two people perfectly in synch like that, and it's also why I love to watch unison skating. Fantastic!
> 
> I had to mention Gina Torres words about a beige, red haired little kid cos I thought they were lovely words :D

Chapter 10: Mirror Skating  
Author: Me!  
Disclaimer: I only own the original characters and the idiotic theme for the Reavers Olympic hockey squad.  
Distribution: Ask and you may have.  
Notes: Let the off-ice training commence!  
  
Xxxx  
  
  
The whistled song of _Always Forever_ filled the Icecapades stadium as Mal entered ahead of his partner. Grinned as said partner shot him the dirtiest look imaginable as she walked through the door he chivalrously held open for her and the others.

“Tell Malcolm thank you.” River said to Wash, button nose pushed right on up into the air. “Our exercise room is right down here.”

He stopped whistling the catchy little tune long enough to reply. “You’re welcome, darlin’. What?” He asked innocently when he caught sight of Zoe’s expression.

“Ain’t learned a damned thing, have you?” Were all she said, but gave him a quirky smile nonetheless. Her lil girl smiled, too, a carbon copy of both her folks, from the copper toned hair to the beige skin, as her mama often spoke of.

“Hey there, lil Emma.” Mal pulled face after face to get himself one of them pretty girl smiles.

One baby hand went to hold her ear as she looked at him through them eyes. Wash’s eyes. “Emma have pops?”

Pops? What the hell were pops?

“Say yes, cap’n.” Zoe’s gaze came at him sideways. “I _dare_ you.”

“Ah, no. No pops here.” Mal shrugged apologetically and spun on his heel, effortlessly slipping between his lil partner and the door to the off-ice workout room. Grinned when amber eyes narrowed up at him. Couldn’t wait for Nandi to get here so as he could tell about his lil fan turned partner.

“Wash, tell Malcolm he’s a…”

“Little ears, honey.”

“... Big, giant rat muncher.” River finished.

“Rat muncher? S’ true love right there.” Mal made a point to grace her with his best, most charming grin right before he blew her a kiss and opened the door for her. “See how nice I am? S’why you love me, ain’t it?”

“My friend has snakes. Sleep with one eye open.”

“Did-did you just talk to me? Zoe, did River just talk to me?” He were rightly ignored. Naturally, it stopped him not at all, and he swanned into the room. “Ain’t half bad.”

There were plenty room to be getting on with and a good amount of equipment, plus dance bar securely fitted in front of a mirror. Only issue he took with the place were the lack of water fountains. Found himself saying as such. “Water?”

“Wash, tell Malcolm the water fountain is in the hallway.” River dropped her bag at the top right hand side of the mirror, locked hands rose until her arms stretched high above her head. She bent to touch her toes and she were all apricot round little _pi-gu_. Could take a bite right out of it.

Had such an urge to give that bitty rear a good slap and grope. Knew it would be one sweet lil piece that would just say as fill his hands.

He were right sure he could still remnants of last night’s blushing. Unzipped his bag to the hummed tune of Forensic Files. Buddha, but an angry female were just the sweetest sight in the gorram ‘verse.

River ignored him completely and set about swapping boots for training shoes, glaring in what he guessed were meant to be a threatening sort of manner. Only it didn’t work so well, not seeing how her full mouth made her angry pout look more like a duck’s beak than a fine set of lips.

He just had to tug on it. Twice, even. Okay, so he tugged until she were forced into giving him a good swat. “S’the cutest lil duck beak ever.”

“You are so _gross_. God!” A bottle of lemon and lime water were offered up. “Drink?”

“Thanks, darlin’.” Mal shot his new choreographer a bright grin. “She loves me. I mean _loves_ , loves. As’in hearts an’ smoochin’ sorta love.”

“Looks more like a longin’ to dismember if you ask me.” Zoe set about putting up a bitty travel crib that came complete with a play mat at the bottom.

He tturned to their new choreographer, arching an eyebrow at the sight of an image recorder being set up so as to be focused on them. Glanced at his partner, who were as clueless as he. “S’that for?”

“Posterity.” Wash scratched his head. “If I can get the thing to work. Is there a genius in the house? Oh, wait. That would be River. Come help papa.”

It took the girl less than two minutes to do what Wash couldn’t. “Smile, Malcolm.” He smiled a smile that fell when she snickered under her breath. Scowled when Wash pointed and nodded.

“Hey!” Mal glared, but were basically ignored. He didn’t like this much. No, sir.

River sighed happily and pulled her hair back into a high horse tail. “There. I’m ready.”

“I want you two facing each other in the middle of the room.

“Ain’t we warmin’ up first?”

“Nope.” Wash pulled back from his image recorder. “Emma honey, want to come help dad?”

The young ‘un perked up at that. “Emma have pops?”

“No, no pops.”

Her chubby little face shook. “Emma no help.”

“That girl knows.” Mal nodded approvingly and took up the space in front of his partner. One look at her were all it took. “Hee!”

The hell, but he weren’t getting over that anytime soon, and in truth, didn’t want to get over, neither. It damned well tickled him blush pink to know he were partnered with that lil girl from a decade ago, and now he remembered…

Well, the image of that lil face and that smart ass mouth caked in toffee had been his constant thinkings all the day long. Each time he looked at her, there it were at the front of his brainpan, and perhaps having her re-enact it line-by-line might have been a touch mean, but he couldn’t blamed. She’d do the same damned thing and she knew it.

He took his chances and leaned down to pop a kiss off her adorably enraged face.

Snarl.

Girl hissed. Amber eyes narrowed, and she actual and whole hissed out her extreme displeasure. “Wash, tell Malcolm he’s going to pay.”

“What is going on, here?” Wash laughed, and he were again taken aback by the difference in the fine fellow.

“Just waitin’ on Nandi.” Mal rolled his shoulders. “She say what time she’d be here?”

“Tell Malcolm Nandi said nine. Natalie can’t come as she’s going over Andre’s contract renewal, and Andre said he’d come by when he can.” River huffed. “Wants to know if you’ll still sign his programs.”

Zoe answered before the fellow ever got the chance. “My husband will be more n’ happy to sign, honey.” Woman paused. “How many he got?”

“About a hundred and fifty.” His partner’s grin were all pretty when she spoke of that former partner of hers. “All mint condition, too. No fingerprints. Wouldn’t even let _me_ touch them.”

“Helloooo…” Wash waved his hand, his skin pale in the room’s natural light. “How in the…” The mama glared mighty. “...Holy month of Tuesday did he manage to find hundred and fifty programs?”

Mal touched chin to chest to hide his grin. When River knew an answer, it were like watching a young ‘un raise their hand in school.

“Oh! That’s easy.” She sat straight. “Andre’s a collector. He got his first program from Osiris performance of The Four Seasons Cirque la Glace. Then, he got his second from the Rample Brothers on Sihnon. Then…”

“I get it!” The choreographer shot him a wide eyed glance before he shook his head. “So since wifey here has signed me up to sign forever, let’s get a move on, shall we? We’ve got work to do here, people. Work, work, woooorrrkkkk… All domestics at the door, if you please…”

Pain had him slamming a hand over his right ear and he glared at the wretched _yao nu_ in front of him, hands innocently clasped behind her back.

“Okay, I’m done.” River smiled much to Zoe’s amusement.

“Eye contact in three, two… Ow!” The choreographer glared at his wife, his hand holding his left ear.

“Yes, husband?”

Mal bit his tongue and exchanged a look with his partner before he moved to the stated position. She were such a bad influence. He liked it.

“Eye contact in two, one…”

He closed his eyes, deep inhalations with slow exhalations until he were on solid ground and able as to hold onto River’s gaze without floating away on his merry. There she were, all amber irises and soft little lashes framing almond eyes, not a lick of makeup to be seen excepting that lipbalm she used each day and night. The hodgeberry one, the one that left a sheer hue of pale berry to her lips. Made them look pretty.

Longer he looked, the more there were to see. There were a depth to her, a strange pool or such under the youthful surface, like River herself were way down in there and couldn’t get out. Her eyes weren’t mirrors like most folk. Oh no. They were like windows, only he weren’t sure if he were looking in or if she were looking out.

Something flashed in them, a reflection or some kind, and a chill prickled hot from shoulders to palms, made them itch and tingle and feel ten kinds of warm. Rubbed them on his pants, but it were no good. He saw something plain as day.

Mal swallowed thick. “Do I want to know?”

“No.” Her breath remained perfectly even as them irises turned glossy bright.

She were worried. Actual and whole worried about him. His reaction. What he thought of her. Then he realised. Her entire life were one big apartment building, weren’t it? For all her riches and doting family, River Tam lived in a cocoon, and he were from the outside. That were why she were clinging to him, weren’t it? Because he’d been _outside_ and met folk from all walks of life, not just them as deemed to be like her. And could be folk she did meet were prone to being scared off by her talent. Gift? Curse? Probably a bit both, he imagined.

“Ain’t a thing, River darlin’. I ain’t a man as to flinch.” Mal cracked grin. Ignored the tiny white spec he could just as see on her left pupil. “Tell me. About what it’s like. They talk?”

A pink tongue swept over her lips, nervousness rolled off of her and yet not once did his partner ever break eye contact. Nodded. “Some can talk, some have voices that got scared away. My parents thought they were imaginary friends. I thought they were monsters under the bed. They’re not. Just...”

Words were of out his mouth before he could put an end to them. “Folk-that-were?”

Only he watched it close up. How that fine sheen of teary gloss dried up on instant and them amber irises of hers just brightened and widened and he could it see it. The smile on her face without so much as a glance at her lips. Teeny tiny little crinkles tugged at the edge of her lashes, pulled her pale sunkissed skin a little tighter, a little higher.

Soft pressure wrapped around his hands and gripped firm, strong, and River took a deep breath and took her first step away from him. Weren’t much on its own, of course, but when a split second later Wash spoke out?

“Take one step baaack…” Both Zoe and Wash were staring at his partner, realising she had quite a ways about her as to render them taken aback their own selves.

Mal didn’t look away from his partner. Kept her hands in his, arms stretched to maintain that contact over the small distance between them. “Yeah, River? She got a thing as to help folk. S’what my partner does. She helps folk to be free.”

Xxxx

“Yeah, River?” Blue eyes said. “She got a thing as to help folk. S’what my partner does. She helps folk as to be free.”

Only they weren’t blues eyes. Not really, because blue pigment didn’t exist in either the stroma or the ocular fluid, and the epithelium in blue eyes was, in fact, black-brown due to the presence of melanin. It was her very favourite optical illusion, truth be told.

“Rayleigh Scattering.” River said, pointing to her own. “In the turbid medium of the stroma. Absorption of longer light wavelengths and reflection of shorter wavelengths undergo Rayleigh Scattering. Blue eyes, blue skies. Same frequency dependence.”

“That why they seem to as change colour in different lightin’?” Mal asked. “Shiny.”

“Yes. Also? Colour Number 661-024 on Inkwell’s 2518 Spectrum.” She added, grasping the hands not belonging to Malcolm Reynolds, childhood crush and sports idol, but the hands of her partner. Mal Reynolds, pain in the behind. Kept her gaze locked on his and took a deep breath. “Folk-that-were? I’ve never thought of them like that before. You’re a good man.”

“Well, I’m alright.” Deep, defined wrinkles narrowed his slightly hooded eyes and her arms stretched a touch more as he stepped back. “I got me temper, see. Known to say things I don’t as mean to say. Which you know personal.”

He had strength where she had confidence. Needed to bridge the gap between them so they were both equals with each trait. “Just need to keep your eyes on the prize, Malcolm.”

“Eyes on the prize, you say. I like that. Could be we use that for when I get my blood up.” Mal cracked. “I start yellin’? You say…”

“Shirt.” She quickly slapped a hand over her mouth and he grinned until her hand landed in his. Had to give him something to make him see she had forgiven his temper. That she trusted him. “I see them all the time, Malcolm. Small and tall and red, and black. I talk with them in my mind and from my mouth. Get caught up in once upon a time.”

“You get caught up? I say happily ever after.”

“Agreed.” River could only just feel his fingertips on hers as she took another step back.

Awkwardness rolled off him. “I take issue with things that ain’t even personal to me. I find myself arguin’ on things I don’t believe in just to push a button or two.”

“You start pushing buttons, I say Elizabeth Bennet.” Delight burst out of her mouth when Mal’s understanding sounded out on a half wheezed cackle. It shouldn’t surprise her, not when she knew he was a reader of classical literature, but it did.

“S’better n’ bein’ kicked in the buzzards.”

Her eyes widened, horrified. She’d seen the damage of testicular injuries courtesy of her poor brother. A drunken patient with an allergic reaction to what was infamously known as the Good Night Kiss. Patient still had his work boots on and her brother needed a scan and straight up Hydrozepam pain relief. Took him almost three weeks to fully recover.

“Somebody kicked your testicles? But that’s mean. _Dangerous_. Signals are sent to the brain at 265 miles per hour and Substance P, an undecapeptide. A neuropeptide that acts as a neurotransmitter and neuromodulator. The testicles share pain receptors in the abdomen, which is why a man lies down or doubles over or collapses. A kick to the testicles can result in testicular torsion, where the blood supply is effectively cut off from the testicles and is a medical emergency. Testicular rupturing occurs from a blow hard enough to crush the testicles off the pelvic bone. Also a medical emergency. Somebody goes to kick you in the testicles? I’ll kick _their_ testicles right back.”

There was silence in the room as Mal stood and stared at her, those blue eyes unblinking and a rather ghastly pallor to his complexion. River frowned. “Are you alright?”

“That, ah…” It appeared to her as though he was trying to suppress both a smile and grimace. “S’plains a lot. My buzzards an’ I have a fine ‘preciation for your generous offer of defence. Could be useful.”

She beamed. “You’re very welcome.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Mal appeared oddly twitchy as he took a large step backwards. He cleared his throat and rubbed the nape of his neck, his eye contact dropping for the shortest of moments. “I get petty jealous, darlin’. An’ I ain’t the most sensitive fellow. Known to be a mite ruthless.”

River almost moved, but that wasn’t fair. If he got jealous over nothing, it meant a lack of trust on his part. Something they couldn’t have and so she stayed right where she stood. “Most of my friends are male. Andre is my best friend. We did date, but I introduced him to Eve Duchamps because I know what their babies will look like.”

Blue eyes reflected the warm smile on his face. He understood enough to take half a step back. They would work on it. “I get jealous, you say…”

“Trust me, Malcolm.” Returned his smile. “People say I can be intimidating. So I hide away. Makes me feel arrogant. Rude. Condescending. I don’t mean to be. Just…”

“I hear you.” And she heard him. More to the point, she believed him enough to step back. “You ain’t have to do that no more, darlin’. Guessin’ you get an idea an’ hop to it ‘afore you see fit as to shed light on why you’re doin’ what you’re doin’?”

River felt her jaw drop. “How?”

“I know who you are.” Mal shrugged easy as he pleased. “You do that an’ I say whatcha doin’. Timin’ ain’t down to just you, neither. If we let that brain o’ yours calculate timin’ ‘tween us? We ain’t doin’ it right.”

“But I wasn’t…” He arched an eyebrow. “Alright.”

He didn’t step back.

“I said alright. God!” Stomped her foot for good measure.

He grinned, but moved.

“Now walk towards each other. Strengths, this time.” Wash’s voice startled her into jumping out of her skin, but she didn’t break eye contact.

“I’m a sure partner. My grip? S’always locked.” Mal said.

“One hundred percent.” River very much agreed with. When he said something would get done, then it got done, and it was just that simple. So she took two steps forward. Went to speak, but stopped short.

It was a strange thing, she thought as she stood with her gaze focused on his, how difficult it was to speak openly about personal strengths when it had been so easy to speak on personal weaknesses. As she faced Malcolm Reynolds, a man who had the t-shirt both on and off the ice, it was stranger still. He knew his strengths in and out, while she found herself floundering to find even one that didn’t revolve around something they already knew.

She wet her lips. “I’m creative.” Yes, it was a lame thing to say, but it was all she had off the top of her head. Held her breath as she watched her partner take one step and another, relief and confidence elevated her just a little, and it was enough.

Mal quirked a grin at her. “I’m organised. Might not come across as suchlike, but it’s there.”

River took half a step forward. “You need to be more specific. It’s me, not you. I know so much and it’s hard to distinguish sometimes. What you mean, I mean. Do you know what I mean?”

His eyebrows twitched. “S’it bad I understand that? Could be you help me with that. Make it so as you know what I mean. I’m honest.”

She took a step forward. “Me, too. I can be… Determined.”

He got closer. “I read in bed.”

“From one fellow librocubicularist to another, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” She laughed at his bug eyed expression.

“There’s a word for _that_?”

“Words for _everything_. I’m a logophile.”

“Lover of words.” Mal pinpointed straight away and took two steps forward. “I’m a… Nyctophiliac.”

“Also called scotophiliac.” River shrugged. “Your experience might outweigh mine, but I know things. Ways to make things…”

“Better?” There went his eyebrows again. “You can have all the smarts in the ‘verse, darlin’. Have ideas ten ways from Sunday, but if you don’t got the courage as to speak up an’ share ‘em?”

Felt herself nod as another of her weaknesses countered her strength. “Ballet is routine. Set in stone. Unchanged. I’ll learn to speak up.”

He shot her a little wink and moved closer. “I know you will. An’ I’ll listen. I’m ‘fraid I’ll let you down. That I ain’t as what’s made out to be. That…”

“If you were so good, you would have an Olympic gold.” Prickling heat made her eyes sting as she watched the short nod. “And maybe Inara wouldn’t…”

Mal stopped her there. “Inara. We weren’t best suited as sweethearts. Just took me time to realise that is all. Could be what went on off-ice were seen on it. It were fightin’, River darlin’. Felt as though s’all we did were fight or push buttons. She saw a world she wanted an’ it weren’t mine.”

A frown tugged her eyebrows together. “A world?”

“Floatin’ chandelier world. Nobility. S’like a rancher’s boy weren’t good enough.”

River stared, unable to fathom how or why one party would seek to make their partner, romantic or not, feel not good enough and it all became so painfully clear. Mal had spent so much time having that feeling reinforced, that he truly believed he wasn’t good enough and so he’d stopped trying. A self-fulfilling prophecy, and as she stood there, looking into those blue eyes and feeling all of what he felt, right from the lack of confidence to his exhaustion from running in circles and getting nowhere, fast.

She thought of Andre, how they worked and built each other up, how he saw himself as her pedestal and she his ladder. Tried to imagine how it would be to have him pull on her ankles, not push at her feet, to have him drop instead of lift, and she couldn’t imagine it. Destroying your partner was a cardinal sin and that sting in her eyes grew hot, itchy, made her lashes sticky wet.

He was warm and solid, his build pure cowboy muscle made lean from hard ranch work and figure skating. There was residue of it, too, and it clung to his hair and skin and clothes, both the pleasant scent of fresh cut grass and the unpleasant smell of manure. Could smell the horses and hay, the bonfires he made as a kid, the watering hole he skinny dipped in with a girl named Betty Deacon.

Felt him shrug and say something, but the barking of a large black and white herding dog pawing at her beloved master’s right heel. A large hand smoothed down her spine as she snivelled and subtly wiped her runny nose on his shirt. “Tops says hello.”

Mal froze and pulled back, shocked and unsure whether or not to believe her. “Now how in the hell do you know that?”

River sniffed and pouted, looking up at him through her wet lashes. “I uploaded a photo of you to our C-site.”

He went to speak, but a sigh came out instead and he patted her shoulders. Paused as he glanced down at his shirt. “Is that snot?”

Xxxx

Zoe stood back and quietly watched her husband as he watched his students. Their daughter also watched him, her eyes wide and focused until her play mat caught her attention and thesippy cup was given. A distracted child allowed for a mama to really focus on the man behind the camera, and only the good lord would ever understand the relief bursting inside her chest.

Wash had, true to form, been up until the late hours, gaze on two screens at the same time. One of River Tam and the other Mal Reynolds. He watched, rewound, and watched again, and rewound. Somehow or another, her husband managed to come across a video of the pair when they were young. River's recital of The Golden Goose at the age of six and Mal's first competitive free skate at the age of eight.  
  
Just when Zoe thought she had that man's mind all figured out, he would go and pull a white rabbit out of his hat, and she would be left scratching a head that echoed the words _what the rut_. He hadn't been so invested in anything since the shuttle crash beyond Emma and even then, Wash shied away from picking his girl up in case he dropped her, yet this morning after he'd been up until two am? Emma made her way into their room and he'd been so damned tired, he didn't think twice about scooping her up and dropping her between them in bed.  
  
No fuss was made and she simply let it be, but the hell if she hadn't wanted to say something other than _"What time do you call this?"_

Her gaze drifted back to the pair in front of them and sighed at the sight of Mal's face, then looked to River.

_I hope that girl's strong._

**Author's Note:**

> I thought this one up while being bogged down by my Osteoarthritis, which is so severe I'm now on Oxycodone. So not only have I been writing with aching joints, but also heavily under the influence of drugs. Let's hear it for us medically-induced junkies!


End file.
